Guest Blogger: An Outsider Looking In by Jenn B.

Fast forward to today, and you’ll find me spending spare moments brain storming ideas to raise money for AFED, or thinking of which avenue we should take to get more people to attend our annual art auction.

A year ago in June, my friend Cheryl got the worst phone call a parent could ever get while on vacation with her youngest daughter.  Her oldest daughter, Kelsey had passed away.  There were pills found in her system, but her frail, withered body could take no more.  Her heart gave out and she left to a more peaceful place, where there  is no suffering, eating disorders are non-existent and poor body image is unheard of.

In the months that followed Kelsey’s death, I started working with AFED, a  brand new organization that had no money, but needed it badly.  I started to attend meetings to plan AFED’s very first Art Auction to get them some money in the bank.  The goal I had in my mind {in this very particular order} was to honor Kelsey’s life, spread awareness and if we made money doing it for AFED, that was the icing on the cake.

Our meetings were held at one of my favorite little restaurants in town, which was ironic to me because all I knew before my first meeting is that people with eating disorders either don’t eat or they purge.  I was absolutely befuddled as to why they would pick this place, with rich, fatty foods for their meetings.  Turns out it was just a convenient location.

At the first meeting, I arrived and waited for the only familiar face to show up (Cheryl).  We walked in together and ordered our food so we could eat dinner as we met.

As I sat down with my tray of creamy tomato basil soup, half of a french dip sandwich and some water, I looked at the women also sitting at the table.  At that very second, it was clear to me, in no uncertain terms, who was there because they were living with this disease.  The girl across from me had a spinach salad with no dressing.  As I ate my soup and sandwich, I watched her eat only the spinach and carefully remove any cheese that was on each leaf.  She took exactly 5 bites and pushed the rest of the salad away from her.

While I was trying to concentrate on the task at  hand, all I wanted to do was grab this beautiful girl, who coincidentally reminded me of Kelsey, give her a huge hug and tell her that everything was going to be okay.  It wasn’t until a few months later I learned that people who struggle with eating disorders don’t really care what anyone else on the ‘outside’ has to say.  They’ve heard it from therapists, their parents, their families, their treatment providers, but they just don’t care.  No, I think they care, but they can’t find it in themselves to break away from it.  This disease gets a grip on people and it’s so hard to break away.

In the meetings that followed, at the same location every time, I found myself going a half hour early so I could eat my food alone.  My train of thought was that if I was eating these foods in front of these girls, they must think I’m some sort of disgusting person.  Eating this food with no guilt or remorse.  It was like I thought they would count the calories and fat grams as I put each bite into my mouth.  Now it was me.  I confused myself because I don’t have an eating disorder.  I’ve never had issues with my body image and I’ve *almost always been comfortable in my skin (read: * pregnancy was rough).  Why did I have the feeling that I was being put under the microscope?  I realized that this is exactly what people suffering must feel like.  I also learned later that people who suffer from Eating Disorders worry about themselves.  What they’re putting (or not) into their body,  Chances are they never thought for two seconds about what I was eating, so I was probably over-analyzing everything, which is par for course when it comes to me.

It’s easy for someone on the outside, like me, to just shrug it off and have the “I just don’t get it” train of thought.  I’m not going to lie, I’ve always loved the easy way out, but not when it comes to this.  I’ve seen what this disease does to families.  I’ve looked at girls in recovery, dead-square in the eyes and I’ve seen that they have faith that one day they will dig their way out of this hole.  I’ve listened to mothers tell me stories of what their families went through when their children were going through treatment and therapy.  Every story is ingrained into my brain.

This is a disease there is no cure for.  This is a disease that we, as human beings are going to have to fight for, for every person we love.  There is no time better than now, to start spreading awareness.  Learn the facts and signs and start talking about it.  If you know someone who is suffering, it’s important that they get the treatment they need.  It’s far more serious than any Lifetime Movie could ever portray.

If you would like to get involved, check NEDA’s site for volunteer opportunities in your area.  If you would like more information about AFED, just click or ask!