The Wake-Up Call That I Needed

Ever since I can remember, I felt like I was different than other boys somehow. While others were into things like sports and hunting, I had far more interest in introverted endeavors, like video games, cooking, and artistic pursuits. I turned to punk rock early for my emotional validation.

At that time, things like ADHD, autism, and OCD were not as discussed either.  (And if it was, there was a negative stigma attached that one was “crazy” and certainly not something to be proud of.) I went well out of my way to hide (or mask) my eccentricities, truly thinking that there was something wrong with me. Sure, there were the usual gifts attached (a quick wit, creativity, and thinking “outside the box,” etc.), but the struggles all too often took center stage. 

(Before I get too ahead of myself, some years back, I already had some trouble avoiding and throwing away foods that my diagnosed OCD managed to convince me were “contaminated.”  This landed me in the psychiatric ward. The nurses were definitely on top of ensuring I took my protein shakes and didn’t throw out any food. With counseling and medication, I overcame this smaller hurdle at the time.) 

When it comes to relationships, I was always a wounded bird needing protection. I craved so badly the love that I missed out on growing up. I yearned for someone to come to my rescue and take me in her arms! I read recently that it is common for highly sensitive persons (HSPs) to desire being housewives or househusbands, further elevating those fuzzy feelings of safety and security.

I was always extremely thin and had low body weight, even still. Like so many others in the community have expressed, I too always found it so comforting when a girlfriend wanted me to do things like sit on her lap, borrow her sweater or jacket, etc.  (No wonder it’s so common in the neurodivergence community to co-regulate and feel “safe” with helpful things like this, especially if there are abandonment wounds on top of it.) 

Being a rock guitarist and singer, I loved things like fashion and would take great care of what outfits I would wear on stage. More often than not, men’s clothing tends to stress function over fashion, so I often found more interesting options in the women’s section. (It was a great feeling if I could easily fit into a woman’s medium or, even cooler, a woman’s small.) 

If you can predict what happened next, especially with OCD on top of it, I found myself gravitating towards an eating disorder. That’s when I started really watching what I ate and would find myself feeling guilty after eating almost anything. So, I discovered that exercising after every meal seemed to alleviate that feeling…to some extent at least.    

A short time later, I was reading an article about this guy in my music circles. I admired that he, too, seemed to flip the script on our culture’s one-size-fits-all conditioning. But something caught my eye. For some reason, it listed his weight. And it happened to be less than mine! Oh, the horror! I have to admit that it really stuck with me and I just couldn’t let it go. 

So, I leveled things up further, wanting results fast. That’s when I would start starving myself more and more. It didn’t take long to start getting headaches, etc. It’s funny that OCD, which is largely responsible for causing this mess, was now playing good cop, sending me the message that things were getting scary and it’s time to tread more carefully. 

While I did get myself to eat the bare minimum to take the pangs away, I still did not abandon the “mission.”  I would weigh myself constantly, hoping to finally surpass the gentleman who had the audacity to be lighter than me.  

I didn’t really feel like my efforts were doing anything until I saw a photograph of myself. It really shocked me when I saw the face looking back at me. My face and arms were so skeletal. That was the wake-up call that I needed to realize that it was no longer safe to continue on the road that I was on. It felt strange to think of myself having an eating disorder, being a guy and all.  

It felt good to acknowledge what was happening, though, so I could do something about it.  Things like OCD medication and the support of some of my family have always been a big help. I know that nobody has that “perfect” family. But know that there are always people out there who care. I’m certainly not bragging that I’m “cured,” as I still sometimes find myself feeling guilty after eating or go into exercise mode to undo the “mistake.” But now I can spot the warning signs and am more well-equipped to ignore OCD’s tricks! There is hope out there!

Andrew

Andrew struggled with an eating disorder after his desire to become thinner led to excessive exercise and restricting his food intake. Luckily, Andrew got the wake-up call that he needed, which made him realize he needed help. He wants to let everyone know that help and support are out there if you’re willing to take the first step.