CORSUMING
OBsEsSluN
eating. They'll chew gum,
suck on diet candies.
They'll stay busy.
Laura, a 30-year-old
Southfield businesswoman,
started to control her
eating habits at age 14
while at Camp Tamarack.
Controlling her eating, she
said, meant not eating
anything. She lost so much
weight that first summer
that a size 1 dress was too
big for her.
She still is not certain
why this became such an
important part of her life.
It could have been, she
said, falling out of touch
with her father after her
parents' divorce. She's
been in and out of therapy
for her eating disorders
and other problems since
then.
She is still very aware of
her weight. She maintains
a strict diet, which includes
coffee for breakfast, no lun-
ch and usually a Greek
salad for dinner. When she
eats at restaurants, the
salad dressing goes on the
side. There is no food in her
refrigerator, and she exer-
cises six days a week.
"I was living my own
silent hell when I was
younger," she said. "But
now I'm happy. I'm in con-
trol, and I take food very
seriously. I'm not anorexic
because my weight is a
healthy weight now. But
the difference is, I know
how to stay within a range
that is healthy for me.
"When I was anorexic, I
always thought I was fat,"
she said. "I wanted to eat,
but I couldn't. I was told
that if I didn't start eating,
I'd be put in the hospital.
But believe me, I wanted to
eat. There was just some-
thing in me that wouldn't
let me. My therapy taught
me that my problem was
more than just with food. I
wanted more from my
father than he was capable
of giving me."
Laura said she knows
she'll never be anorexic
again. Still, she admits
that her weight remains a
big issue. She calls it a
"weight fetish." She likes
to go out to dinner with
friends, but she sticks to
her salads. She'll order
major meals for her friends
— "I like to eat vicariously
through other people," she
said.
Arlene Goldberg, director
of clinical services for
Jewish Family Service,
said Jews culturally seem
to have a general obsession
with food and, in many
cases, it leads to an eating
disorder.
"We talk about food a
lot," she said. "The family
gets together around food,
especially during the holi-
days. Families who are
poor in the Jewish com-
munity will spend more
money on food, because of
its cultural importance
than anything else.
"The future rests with
our children, and I guess
we feel we need to nourish
them well. But as Jews
even our sins are cast aside
one day a year by denying
ourselves food. And then
we end the most holy day of
the year with what else?
Food."
Ms. Goldberg added that
when eating disorder
clients reach a dangerous
low point of malnourish-
ment, they are referred to
doctors and clinics for
medical treatment.
Medical treatment is ad-
vised when a victim shows
a lowered potassium level; a
lowered body temperature,
pulse rate, blood pressure;
loss of 20 percent of body
weight; loss of menstrual
period; and presence of
facial hair called lanugo,
among other conditions.
Both Ms. Freedland and
Ms. Odom said they work
on teaching the eating dis-
order victim that they can
be empowered without self-
destructing. Ms. Freeland
said when the patient fully
understands that she is
worthy and capable, the
nutritive recovery will
follow. But this is still seen
as difficult for some who
have eaten 15,000 calories
and then vomited it all out
or for an anorexic who
carefully maintains an in-
take of 200 calories a day.
Michael knew all about
calorie counting and so did
many of his high school
wrestling teammates. Now
a 29-year-old, Michael has
only recently recovered ful-
ly from his bulimia. In high
school, his condition had
nothing to do with looks,
but everything to do with
the pressure of making
weight on the team.
To compete, he started as
a sophomore forcing
himself to vomit his lunch.
He'd run the hallways in
two pairs of sweatsuits to
lose weight. He'd even
"spit off" weight. When
wrestling was over, he was
too steeped in his bad habit
to stop.
"I learned this from a
teammate," he said. "The
difference was, my team-
mate, as far as I know,
stopped at the end of the
season. I kept on going.
"Everything you read
and hear is true. I fit the
formula perfectly. My
parents were divorced; my
dad was an alcoholic and a
hitter. He pressured me to
win, win, win. And to win, I
first had to make weight. I
hated him. And when I
won, it was secondary to
making weight. After a
while, making weight was
my trophy; wrestling was
for everyone else."
Michael said that his
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
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