I Didn't Know I Had an Eating Disorder

(Content Warning: Images and descriptions of eating disorders)

“It made no sense. I was always such a healthy, happy kid.”

It’s a terrible feeling to suffer through something without knowing what’s happening.

Eating disorders affect about 24 million people in the US – but many of them can relate to this story of suffering without a name for what was wrong. In this video, filmmaker Jessie Kahnweiler shares her experience of feeling alone, weird, and “crazy” for binge eating, counting calories, and more.

Find out what happened when she was ready to talk about it. Her touching words offer hope for healing.

With Love,
The Editors at Everyday Feminism

Click for the Transcript

I started getting sick when I was 16. It made no sense. I was always such a healthy, happy kid.

I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t tell anybody. I thought it was just a one time thing and I didn’t want anyone to worry. I couldn’t keep food down, so I kept a plastic bag by the dinner table. I couldn’t leave my dorm room. I missed classes and parties. I was up all night puking in a plastic bag.

Boiling acid lined my throat like a blazing fire, a constant and throbbing pain that made it hard to swallow or speak or think. The pills I took made my entire body shake, my palms sweat, my heart pound. I kept gasping for air, but I couldn’t get anything. I prayed to God, “Please make it stop. Make me better.”

I looked in the mirror, but I didn’t recognize my own reflection. I used cigarettes, sex, cocaine, anything to distract me from the pain. I avoided places and situations because I was terrified of getting sick.

The illness had completely taken over my life. I couldn’t keep any food down. I spent an entire summer eating nothing but breath mints. When I did eat, it felt like my stomach was going to burst open, like there was a wedge of dynamite stuck in my intestines, ready to explode.

Exercise was the only thing that made me feel better, so I went to the gym, and then I went to yoga, and then I went back to the gym. I beat my own body. I tried to rip the fat off my stomach. That was keeping me sick. My fat was standing in between me and my healthy life. I counted everything – miles, calories …

I didn’t eat. One wrong look from someone and I was on the treadmill. I wrecked my car because I was bingeing. My nose was bleeding, I was dizzy, but I was terrified of being caught eating.

When I was finally ready to talk about it, I found out that I wasn’t bad or crazy or weird, and that most of all, I wasn’t alone.

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