Tamzin’s Story

My relationship with food, exercise and my body has never been simple. Throughout school I hated all exercise, as I’d only ever viewed it from the narrow perspective of shit PE lessons. I didn’t hate my body, but didn’t love it either. I wanted a thigh gap, and when someone commented on how skinny my arms were, I felt a huge sense of achievement and self-worth.

During sixth form, I was diagnosed with scoliosis – (swipe to see my scan lol). I was told by my doctor that it’ll probably get worse throughout my life. It gives me pain for most of the day, so it isn’t really something I can forget about. I felt disgusting, unattractive and like I didn’t belong in my own skin. Thus began my terrible body dysmorphia.

When I got to uni, I fell in love with lifting. While back made me feel weak, and the freshers 15 made me feel ugly, lifting made me feel strong. But soon, I started losing control over my eating. I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise the body looking back at me. I started restricting my food, then would break, eat too much, and force myself to throw it back up again. I hit many lows, and still feel ashamed to think about them – buying a whole box of cereal because I thought the ‘cereal diet’ might help me lose weight, but instead eating it dry in one sitting, and throwing it up in a plastic bag next to my bed. I’d punish myself after a night out by doing cardio for hours the next day. My mental health was deteriorating, but I had no idea that it was even an issue. Being sick was just what I did.

Eventually, 1st year ended, and I came back to 2nd year, hoping things would be different. Instead, I still found myself binging and purging. I even went vegan to try and stop it – if I can’t eat a pack of biscuits because of my diet, then maybe I’ll stop binging altogether, right? Wrong. (I must confess I kept with the vegan thing though and now do it for all the right reasons; go vegan!)

In second term, I got a back brace in an effort to correct my spine, and it was one of the worst decisions I ever made. The brace was bulky, painful, and I felt too ashamed to leave the house in it. I missed so many lectures, and I couldn’t even concentrate when I was copying up the notes at home because of the pain. I could hardly breath, and eating anything made me uncomfortably full (not great for a bulimic). I couldn’t be in the same room as people when I was wearing it, and didn’t let my parents even look at me when it was on. I developed a fear of being touched by people, and that extended to when I wasn’t wearing the brace too. I started meticulously tracking my calories in an effort to regain control. I never wanted the shameful feeling that came with being sick, so to combat this I made sure I kept within my calories. A hair over, and I’d have a meltdown. I’d even weigh lettuce. I was so paranoid around food, and my relationship with my parents was suffering. I didn’t want to be honest with them because I thought they’d think I was a failure. Eventually I told them and they brilliant with it, despite it being such a confusing thing (love you mum and dad). That whole summer after second year I was extremely depressed, wearing the brace, scared of being touched by my loved ones, and didn’t even have the will power to watch Netflix.

I stopped wearing the brace because I realised it was doing more harm than good, but my fear or food prevailed. I’d describe it as orthorexia now (look it up, it’s shit), and I’d frequently have panic attacks when something went wrong with my food. At uni, I’d often throw my dinner in the bin 3 times before I could bring myself to eat it. I’d eat away from my housemates every night because I hated people looking at me when I ate. This continued throughout 3rd year, and I felt like I’d never get better. I’d starve myself in the mornings until I couldn’t think/was about to faint, and would frequently go to the gym and lectures in this state, as if I’d be able to lift anything heavy or focus on my degree. I had so many low points this last summer. I frequently had panic attacks and would lie in the same position for hours on end, unable to will my body to move. When my parents tried to touch me I felt like my body was on fire.

Fast forward to 5 weeks ago, I went on medication. And fuck me it’s incredible. I still have SO much to work on, and often make myself sick, but so much less than before, and I haven’t been paralysed by the fear of food in all that time. My back still hurts, and my imbalances still make me physically weaker in the gym, but I finally feel like there is light at the end of the tunnel. For the first time ever, I’m in a calorie surplus, finally giving my body the energy it needs for the GAINZ. George asked me to write something for his page when he started it, and until now I’ve been too afraid. Afraid that people will think I’m a freak, unattractive or a selfish diva. But I have a mental health condition that has manifested itself through food, and I shouldn’t bend to it’s will any more, or feel ashamed. I’ve spoken to so many people and they’ve told me they have similar issues with food, so why are we all hiding? It’s time we all showed some more compassion to ourselves.