Vent incoming. TLDR: Parents are restrictive with food, it fuels my Binge Eating Disorder.
I had to move back in with my parents a couple years ago when I decided to go back to school, and it’s been a roller coaster of issues that I just keep bottled up. Now that I’m graduating from college in a couple months and will hopefully be moving out this year, I’m finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But it’s upsetting that I probably won’t be making any progress before graduation and applying for jobs, that I’ll still be as fat as I am right now.
I have diagnosed Binge Eating Disorder, which throughout my life has been very driven by my dad’s over-restriction of my food. From as early as I remember, he would watch me eat, scowling, deciding when I’d had enough and cutting me off mid-bite. Anything with calories was unhealthy. Bananas, eggs, nuts, you name it. If we were at a restaurant and whatever I ordered happened to be an enormous serving size, he took his anger out on me, as if I had told the restaurant to serve enormous dishes. As early as five years old I had binge habits, always stuffing myself as much as I could whenever my dad was out of the house, or if I was over at a friend’s place. As soon as I was old enough to be out of the house alone, I spent pocket money on junk food from the convenience store. Hid it in my room. It always got worse with every new level of freedom I got: my weekly allowance, then my driver’s license, then living on campus, then getting my own jobs and my own money.
While doing Cognitive Behavioral Therapy in the past year I have learned that it’s not healthy to blame my binge issues solely on my dad. First of all, because I am basically giving up my agency and control over my own behaviors and life in doing so. Secondly, because it’s not entirely logical. Plenty of people with restrictive parents develop a restrictive eating disorder, not BED. And some people turn out fine. And 100 pounds of my weight gain was due to being on an SSRI when I was living on my own, so I can’t exactly blame that on my dad. Plus I have other tactile-sensory-seeking behaviors, like hair-pulling, constant fidgeting, etc, which my BED could be another manifestation of. It’s not purely explainable by my upbringing.
Ironically my dad has mellowed out over the years and barely pays attention to my eating now. But now my mom is the one obsessed with “eating healthy”. The worst part is she yo-yos between different fads. She used to be on the keto train, but it was all talk. She still ate fruits. She still ordered dessert at restaurants. There is no way her body ever entered actual ketosis, but I still had to deal with general carb restriction. Before that, she was convinced gluten was the cause of all ailments. Now she is on the “fat is bad for you” train, because it’s calorie dense. Any time I try to explain that as long as you count your calories, you can eat even calorie dense foods, my parents just scoff at it. My mom has started preaching to me to cut out dairy because it’s not only calorie dense but also has growth hormone that supposedly causes weight gain. But she still thinks carbs are bad. So in her eyes our diet should be nothing but fiber, water, and lean protein. While my dad isn’t prone to fads like my mom is, he is still very restrictive with the foods he eats, and the general types of food kept in the house are very restricted.
Ever since moving back in, I’ve gone back to hiding junk food in my room. When I’m out of the house, I eat fast food because I know that when I’m home I won’t be able to eat in peace with no judgement. When they go out of town, I go on a food spree, stocking the kitchen with the things I’m otherwise not allowed to eat, and eating ungodly amounts to the point where my stomach hurts. And regaining weight in the process.
When my parents are home, I can’t just use my own money for separate groceries and keep them in the kitchen, it would result in major blowback. Example: one time I made myself a bowl of rolled oats while my parents were still home, out in the open in the kitchen. Big mistake. My mom acted as if I was eating fried ice cream or something horrendous, begged me not to eat it, acting genuinely upset like I was killing myself. Because, carbs. Another example: yesterday she made me a smoothie, and I kept asking her to add yogurt to it because all the best smoothies I’ve had had yogurt. She refused, citing the fat and growth hormone excuse. She also refused to add strawberries to it, because again, carbs. I had to cut the berries myself and put them in the blender. I also had to add the yogurt myself after she had made me the smoothie. It doesn’t matter that I’m closer to 30 years old than 20, I am still not treated as having sound judgement when it comes to my own health.
My parents know I’m diagnosed with BED. But I’ve never had an honest conversation with them about how their behaviors make my eating and weight gain worse. I think in their minds I just eat too much and don’t have a good idea of proper serving sizes. They don’t know the half of it. And they have always insisted that they are never at fault for any of my issues. When we were having a conversation once about their overall abusive behaviors toward me, and them claiming I can’t blame all my problems on other people, I had to explain to them, “You are my parents. You are the single biggest influence on my life. How can you possibly think the way you treat me has not had an effect on the way I’ve turned out?” They were speechless for a moment, then my dad hesitantly said, “OK, I realize we sometimes make mistakes…” That was the closest I’ve ever gotten to getting an apology.
Sure, maybe I would be at my peak health if I ate vegan and no carbs (scientifically debatable). But restriction has ALWAYS led me to binge on junk food, without fail. Every. Single. Time. Even when I’ve been the one imposing the restriction on myself. If I could just eat normal foods in moderation, counting my calories, I would be fine. But my parents’ all-or-nothing approach takes a huge toll on me. And while their behavior isn’t the only explanation for my BED, my eating disorder still spirals out of control when I’m exposed to these people. And I feel like I have no hope for getting it under control while I’m living with them.
(Edited spacing issue)
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