Becoming the witch: Imagining my eating disorder through the symbols of mythical creatures
The idea of imagining my eating disorder as a creature from a fantasy world came to me after contemplating the common ways many people seem to personify their illness. People with anorexia often call it Ana, often not unlike a girlfriend that accompanies you through the day, consolidates you and helps you out in difficult times. It is not difficult to imagine why this is problematic. Most of us are aware that our eating disorder is not a friend at all, however, Ana is above all very good at making you hers and hers alone, isolating you from your friends and making you complicit in secrecy, not unlike an abusive partner. Ana makes you empty on the inside, both physically and mentally, and any friendship, no matter how toxic, is better than having to confront the void.
My boyfriend was the first to call her a demon. He described how sometimes my voice, the way I talk and even my body language would change as if I was possessed. The once bubbly person who loved dancing, loved stories, learned languages and traveled, suddenly turned into a one dimensional version of herself that could for hours on end have monologues about dieting, calories and exercise.
"Dance is a task I need to do to burn calories."
"I cannot read right now, it doesn't burn enough calories."
In horror he watched as I spent less and less time reading actual novels and replaced them with diet blogs and low calorie recipes. When we watched movies together I refused to sit down, instead insisted on running on the spot and walking in circles in front of the TV. And if he interrupted me I responded with anger and irritability. He said again and again that it felt like sometimes he wasn't talking to me, like a switch had been flipped and he was suddenly talking to Ana which according to him could be nothing else but a demon that had possessed me (figuratively speaking).
But most people who suffer from anorexia don't describe her as a demon. Rather, Ana usually comes with a whole set of redeeming characteristics which the sufferer is determined to embody one day.
Ana is beautiful, controlled, fragile, ethereal, pure, untouchable.
In this way, the imaginary of Ana reminds me more of an elf or a fairy than a demon. In fact, one sufferer wrote me this disturbing message in a forum:
I want to become an aesthetic fragile fairy with ascetic cheekbones again so badly and if I start binging again I hopefully have the guts to commit suicide
Ana reminds me of the countless images of beautiful, flawless elves that are simply too beautiful to take part in earthly events. I am of course aware that there are plenty of stories out there with more interesting elves. But Ana doesn't really have anything in common with, let's say, a warrior elf. No, Ana most resembles the boring type of elf whose most redeeming feature is her beauty. Ana is a romanticized imaginary of fragility, high cheek bones and emptiness. If I had to name one character Ana reminds me the most of, it is Galadriel from the Lord of the Rings (films). Beautiful, old, sometimes spooky and theoretically powerful, but chooses not to use her powers on anything. And of course with such a boring constellation of characteristics, she can be nothing but a side character, a detail to give the elf world a certain charm, but unable to make any meaningful contribution to the main conflict besides passing on magical objects to the main characters.
As a child I was infatuated with elvish beauty ideals, but I now realize that this was heavily inspired by experiences of social exclusion and bullying, a need to be admirable, perfect but also untouchable. And Ana promised all of this.
But today, in my late 20s, I no longer identify with this role. These days, I rather look up to the image of the witch. Independent, powerful, scary and doesn't give a shit about being pretty nor what you think of her. And in a way, my recovery journey will be a lot about this: Letting go of the image of ethereal beauty and embracing all the other things that make me stronger and more powerful, more me. I am not entirely certain yet what this symbol will mean to me and my journey, but I realize this: The image of ethereal beauty and fragility no longer interests me.
Comments
Post a Comment