You are on page 1of 4

Courtni Benson

Mrs. Jackie Burr, Instructor

ENGL 2010

February 24, 2017

Preservatives = Eating Disorders?

Food is an interconnecting source across the world. It is something that is not only a key

to our survival but a passageway to our culture; alongside other cultures. As one comes to grow

and develop within societal ways, they also grow accustomed to the routines and customs. Even

when growing up all within a condensed area, socioeconomic is a determining factor to the

quality and type of food that they have the capability to come upon. Example, fast food and

processed/ packaged foods are cheaper than healthy foods, so those who are poor have access to

the unhealthy food even if the wants and desires are elsewhere. A factor judging what people eat

is usually based upon appearance, body language and smell, but what many don’t realize is that

genetics actually have quite a bit of impact too weight, and at times the food that can and cannot

be eaten. 20-50% of weight category is determined through genetics, whether it be metabolism,

bone structure, or many other factors. A large issue being the weight gain heavily seen across

specifically America (who currently holds the highest obesity rate) is based upon the chemicals

being pumped into out bodies, including GMO’s and preservatives used to let the food many eat

on a daily basis to last so long.

The reason obesity has become so high within America is because of the change within

our everyday diets, mainly being chemical, hormone injected foods processed and packaged. It’s

almost an oxymoron because we live within a society that expects all to reach unattainably high
beauty standards within both men and women; yet all that we are fed, or that many can afford

creates the opposite effect of what is suppose to be obtained. This manipulation through

addictive foods, one being sugar has created the link of eating disorders that many of us know or

have come to learn and know about; whether it be personal or a known story.

Growing up is never considered easy, but growing up within an abusive household on

one side and on the other growing up with a depressed bulimic mother on the other is a whole

other story. Eating disorders run in my family as is; but no one ever thought I would personally

obtain one. I stayed a happy child but the years of abuse built up turning my happy child self into

a depressed heap of skin and bones. It all started with my biological father and if my knowledge

serves me correct being called a worthless piece of shit that should go kill herself almost on a

weekly basis. The most impact one person can make on you is as a child, especially close family,

friends and last but not least, parents. As a child I wanted nothing more than to have my parents

happy with me, even if it meant hunkering down and letting a blow come across my face or any

other part of my body. Whether it be sitting as a small child and letting my mom sit and cry

while she also used me as her comparison stalk. My parents were my heros as a kid, no matter

how many times they beat me down and hurt me, but as I grew this developed into strong forms

of remorse, hatred and hurt.

Anorexia is not a disease, where it is a eating disorder it something mentally engraved

into you, that never disappears. Fully and completely deceiving your own perception of yourself.

As a 115 pound girl I saw myself as over 140, growing up around insecurities there is an

everyday battle that occurs. Triggered by small miscellaneous things. Food is a toxicity to me,

something that I have personally come to absolutely hate, no matter if it was my favorite ice
cream, pizza, or anything else. Sugar caused weight gain, so did eating healthy though and it was

something that I could nor was willing to touch for almost a month period. Living off of rare

bites of food, mainly being mints and water caused a weight loss of 30 pounds within a month

turning me into to skin and bones starting to be noticed by people around me. Where I learned

how to hide bruises by the age of 4 I now was learning how to hide the weight loss through cover

of clothing not willing to be caught or once again told I was fat as I could barely hold myself up

on my own two feet.

Wobbling through the hallways my ninth grade year I already know I did not hide my

new come addiction as well as I thought I had. Between changing in the locker rooms about 3

times a day depending on the activity within gym and my two dance classes, I had set myself up

with this schedule of not only starving myself but with one that made me consistently active. My

clothes quickly shrunk, my social issues continued rising; whether or not being groped by an

oncoming guy, having my drinks spiked or trying to keep my grades up when barely able to keep

my eyes open in class. Art and poetry became an anger release as I was trying to find out who I

personally was, a question I can honestly say not many of my fellow mates and I hadn’t figured

out, we are just little pesky ninth graders. The years oncoming of recovery had to be the most

difficult, fighting the urge and the images, always insecure about my figure as I had to come to

accept incoming weight gain. It took three years to completely gain back all the weight loss,

three years to have a secure sense of confidence in myself. Three years to feel what hunger was,

an odd sensation I had only felt when I forgot to eat for three days; my body not ever giving off

the signals until once again I was back to no longer moving from exhaustion. Where a difficult

journey it gave me a broader understanding of what the food we eat does to our bodies because
of the strangling grasp one sweet holds over my head. It is almost an acceptance in fate in my

eyes, where I either indulge and let the weight gain happen or I refuse the foreign poisonous

substances into my body. Living the life I did, do and more then likely will where regulated

eating is nearly impossible, but moderation on dependence of specific foods has become a

withstanding talent throughout my day to day endeavors. There still are all those treacherous

thoughts that run through my head, able to be triggered at any moment but a much more subdued

and hidden version that happens on a daily basis. Anorexia is not a disease but a mental thought

process that many fail to understand.