Anorexia: The Hidden Disease, Part 3
By Michele Herenstein
Before continuing my own tale, I read a bit about anorexia in the Jewish community. This might be surprising, but “it is a commonly held belief that there is a disproportionate number of Jews with clinical eating disorders. The Renfrew Center of Philadelphia at one point reported that 12 percent of their inpatient eating-disorder population was Jewish, despite the fact that Jews make up only two percent of the general population.” This is scary and confusing. Why the rampant illness of anorexia and bulimia in the Jewish community? Are we doing something wrong? Is there something specific to the Jewish population that causes anorexia? According to Abigail Natenshon, “In seeking to explain the incidence of clinical eating disorders amongst Jews, incriminating theories abound. Food and eating has traditionally been the centerpiece of Jewish communal celebration, holidays, and traditional family lifestyle; ‘Ess, ess, mein kind’ conjures up images of the stereotypical Jewish mother who demonstrates her love by compulsively pushing food on her reluctant child. Demanding parents who hold their children to rigorous standards of performance have been said to foster perfectionism or stimulate a “good-girl” style of rebellion through self-destructive behaviors and dietary manipulation. Self-starvation has also been considered third-generation identification with Holocaust martyrdom.”
According to an article online titled “Reclaiming the Body: Anorexia and Bulimia in the Jewish Community,” “Jewish women face special risks because their lives are often defined by strictly prescribed roles. They are under great pressure to marry early, and arranged marriages, immediate childbearing, and large families are the norm. For young girls who are unprepared to start families, anorexia is a means to delay puberty, put off child bearing, and gain control of their bodies when their lives are out of their control.” I see this as a large problem affecting the Jewish community, because girls who aren’t ready for marriage are probably afraid to admit to this. In certain families and communities, it looks “bad” for a girl to put off marriage, and people wonder why. And shame is a large part of why girls/women don’t speak about their problem. The article states: “For many Jews, acknowledging psychological problems such as addictions, depression, and eating disorders carries a stigma. Often sufferers and their families keep their problems secret and avoid seeking psychotherapy until problems reach a dangerously severe level. Early identification and treatment are crucial to healing.” One of my goals in writing about anorexia is to lessen, and hopefully eliminate, the stigma and shame associated with having anorexia. This is true for anxiety and depression as well as many other problems and diseases that are often at least partly biological.
My story continues when I left Massachusetts after a couple of years to move back to Long Island, thinking that being near my family would be good and helpful. I moved into an apartment in Long Beach, near enough to the Five Towns and my family, but just a bit out of reach. I never felt comfortable in Long Beach, and somehow I restricted my food intake even more. I had trouble seeing people, so rarely did I have visitors. It was hard for me to be around people, so when I did have someone come over, I would make sure it was a short visit. This was true not only with friends, but also with family. I felt lonely and left out of family functions, even something small like a Chanukah party at my parents’ house, but I couldn’t get myself to go. It felt too difficult.
I was working out in Long Beach, on my elliptical and sometimes in my building’s gym. I also got back into my running, which I generally did on the Long Beach boardwalk or on the streets. I kept pushing myself for a faster run and longer distances. I also found a new trainer to work out with. He had me doing boot-camp-style workouts, which I adored.
However, I came to hate working out. After a while, it felt like a chore. I couldn’t go anywhere or see anybody even if I’d wanted to because exercise took up most of my time.
I tried seeing a few doctors to get help, but none clicked. The only positive thing I took away from the various doctors was the “fact” that if I stopped exercising, I wouldn’t gain weight because my weight was already so low. Hearing this came as a huge relief. I was finally free of the chains of exercise. However, because I wasn’t exercising, I became even more careful about restricting my food intake.
And so I weakened. I stopped leaving my apartment very much. I had almost no visitors. I was living an extremely isolated existence. Being isolated felt safer to me than being with people. This is the case with many anorexics. As much as I sometimes felt stir-crazy, feeling safe was key for me, and that meant staying home.
I canceled appointments, stopped making appointments altogether, and stopped grooming myself to a large degree.
I was having trouble talking on the phone as well. I stopped answering the phone and for the most part, I stopped making calls, so I never communicated by telephone. This isolated me even more. I still used e-mail to some degree, but only when I felt up to writing.
I was lucky; my good friends never stopped being in touch, and I always knew if I needed them, they’d be there for me, physically and emotionally.
Everyone is always telling me how strong I am; I never believe them. Yet, I finally made the scary choice to get help, and I suppose that is strength of a kind. A perfect quote for my circumstances was written by Rikki Rogers: “Strength doesn’t come from what you can do. It comes from overcoming the things you once thought you couldn’t.”
I hope my story will give strength to those who need it. Those who are sick and not yet getting help, those in a hospital who want to give up, and those who want to help others but are scared to—all these people should look deep inside themselves and find their courage, bravery, and strength. We all have it on some level. Search your heart and soul and you will find it. I am here to help in any way I can. I hope I have already given some of you the impetus to get help, or to help a loved one or a stranger. That is one goal in writing my tale. I am here for you, if only by giving you my words, my story. In my heart, I am with you on your journey. As I know you are all with me on my journey. v
Note: I’m writing these articles because I hope my story will provide encouragement, hope, and information that will be helpful to others. Please understand, however, that I am in the early stages of recovering from anorexia. I cannot offer medical advice or referrals to treatment.
Michele Herenstein is a freelance journalist and can be reached at michelesherenstein@hotmail.com.