Your ED Friend: Six Years Later

[Obvious TW is really glaringly obvious.]

“I had an eating disorder.”

“I guessed.”

We were juniors, boyfriend and girlfriend, officially. Up late and texting, doing that flirting thing where you demand each others deepest secrets and pretend you’re giving yours away.

Except I did give mine away.

“I had an eating disorder.”

I was lying, of course. It wasn’t the past tense–it was the second year of an eating disorder, one that would get worse, more disorganized, and wreak much more havoc on my sanity in the coming four years.

But it was the first step.

And he had guessed–known, really, for months. He’s my best friend now, far and away in Texas. In this month, marking six years since I developed what would reach clinical-level anorexia, I asked him about it.  He doesn’t remember when he figured it out, really. It was, according to him, always part of how he knew me.

And I don’t think he’s wrong. It’s been six years ago, as of this month, since the behavioral side of anorexia started. Every time I’ve looked back and tried to think “back when I was stable/normal/didn’t have an eating disorder”…I realize I’m looking back at times when I was actually worse, when I wasn’t eating, when I couldn’t go ten minutes without invasive, obsessive thoughts about food.

Six years. More than a quarter of my life.

There’s this thing they talk about in therapy some times: grieving for the normal self. Because even were your disorder to remit entirely…you wouldn’t go back to being Old You. Your brain learns things. You grow and bend and shape yourself around coping mechanisms and triggers and ways of responding to the world. Old You is just gone. And Old You was a whole person, with plans and potential and places to go and things to do and ways of looking at the world. Maybe a little more optimistic, a little shinier and fresh-faced. You get to have all those things again, those plans and that potential, it’s true. But sometimes they’re a little dusty, a chipped, in pieces.

And I really liked Old Kate.

Therapy was a eulogy, stories of when I could look in mirrors, and dancing and days when I could just throw on clothes in the morning.

And now, finally, I think I’ve laid that Kate to rest.

A photographer friend took this for me--a lasting reminder that I can be happy in this body.

A photographer friend took this for me–a lasting reminder that I can be happy in this body.

I’m…this Kate.

I have this weird alternate life where I write things on the internet and people read them. On weekends I go to conferences and go by a different name, and on Monday the coach turns into the best pumpkin ever and I work at Fabulous Unspecified Internship.

I’ve gone skinny-dipping. I’ve gone skinny-dipping in Lake Michigan in the middle of winter. (Note: REALLY cold.)

I am emotionally able to care for another animal and I know this because I’m doing it right now.

I live in a city that I love. I’m in love.

I don’t dance anymore, and it hurts. But sometimes I actually see New Kate in the mirror, and that makes me think that someday I’ll go back into a studio.

I’ve learned some of two different languages, and I get to take classes about bioethics and astronomy and artificial intelligence and and and…and each day ends with just wanting more more more. More books, more research, more people who want to know anything about everything and everything about anything.

There’s something they don’t tell you about eating disorders. About how much you want more than anything to wake up and be in a different skin, how much you don’t want to feel your own body, to notice what space you take up.

But New Kate is still here, taking up space.

I’d like to keep doing that.

The Weight Requirement, and Other Ways We Diagnose Anorexia

This is a post that’s been a long time in coming. Unfortunately, every time I start it, I get upset and then have to leave it alone. So here we have it: what’s wrong with how we diagnose anorexia. Now with less ragequitting!

Anorexia has a weight requirement.

Refusal to maintain body weight at or above a minimally normal weight for age and height, for example, weight loss leading to maintenance of body weight less than 85% of that expected or failure to make expected weight gain during period of growth, leading to body weight less than 85% of that expected.

PROBLEMATIC.

Please, someone define what a normal weight is. Because I know this totally isn’t controversial. Using BMI? It doesn’t account for muscle mass, so you’re leaving out  anyone who’s particularly athletic. Using clothing sizes? Ahahahahahahaha. 

Even supposing we had some accurate scale of normal height-to-weight ratios, should a diagnosis rest on a weight? If I’m restricting caloric intake, and I drop under 85%… Bingo, I have anorexia. Ding ding ding and all that. The next day, I enter treatment, or I eat a particularly large meal, or retain a little water, and suddenly I’m at 86%. Have I suddenly developed a disorder that is markedly distinguishable from what I had on Monday? I think not.

The emphasis on being excessively thin is also in the second criteria:

Intense fear of gaining weight or becoming fat, even though underweight.

Anorexia does not just happen one day, when you stop eating and magically, everyone can tell! This, like lots of the criteria, seem to be waiting to diagnose after the disease has progressed significantly.* That’s dangerous.

This is particularly true for people who start at an above-average weight. We fetishize the idea of heavy people losing weight through whatever means possible, up to and including unhealthy ones. (Biggest Loser, anyone?) It’s going to take an especially long time for family and friends to notice such severe weight loss–and of course, they’ll probably praise and reinforce it along the way–and all the while, the disorder will become more entrenched, wreaking havoc on the body it inhabits.

Amenhorrea

In postmenarcheal females, amenorrhea, i.e., the absence of at least 3 consecutive menstrual cycles. A woman having periods only while on hormone medication (e.g. estrogen) still qualifies as having amenorrhea.

Defined as non-menstruation for three cycles, this is competing with weight measurement for least helpful criteria. For one, it isn’t useful for anyone on hormonal birth control (withdrawal bleeding is not the same as getting your period). For two, it’s a fairly useless metric. Only cisgender women who can ovulate, are not pregnant, and who have reached puberty, but not menopause can use it. (Also, you qualify for this criteria automatically if you’re on birth control. Say what?) Further, there’s not a lot of research suggesting that amenhorrea occurs in a standardized way, or that it represents the severity of deprivation. Luckily, this is heading out with the publication of the DSM-5.

Waltzing between diagnoses.

In the span of six years, I met criteria for…

Anorexia nervosa (purging type)

Anorexia nervosa (non-purging type)

Binge Eating Disorder (BED)
Note: this is a proposed conditional diagnosis, given separate status from BN and AN. 

Bulimia Nervosa (non-purging type)

Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (EDNOS)

…that would be all but two of the ways one can have an eating disorder. This suggests that we may just be quantifying eating disorders incorrectly. Those qualifying for anorexia diagnoses are automatically going to fall into EDNOS as they recover and gain weight (and consequently, no longer meet the first criteria for AN). Should we rename EDNOS as “Anorexia in Remission?” No, because then you leave out the others who were diagnosed as EDNOS for other reasons, such as not qualifying for a bulimia diagnosis. If EDNOS is made up of lots of people with very different manifestations of disordered eating, can we do any useful research about the diagnosis? Will we be able to draw any useful conclusions? Probably not.

And why does it all matter? After all, society recognizes that refusing to eat is bad, right? It matters because the research doesn’t look at “a population of women who have refused to eat at some point”. It looks at “300 female patients who had been diagnosed with anorexia in the last calendar year”. That means how we assess treatment, how we examine the genetic basis, how we study the disorder is a product of how we describe it.

And we’re doing it wrong.

*Also, the face of anorexia, besides being almost always a thin woman, is always white and upper class. Incorrect, and a scary myth to perpetuate.

Psychopathology Sum-Up: Bulimia Nervosa

[This is a guest post by Tetyana Pekar]

Tetyana is about to defend her MSc in Neuroscience at the University of Toronto. She is passionate about making eating disorder research more accessible to the public. She writes the Science of Eating Disorders blog where she aims to make sense of the latest findings in eating disorder research for lay audiences. She can be reached at tetyana@scienceofeds.org.

What is bulimia nervosa?

Bulimia nervosa (BN) is a serious eating disorder (ED) characterized by cycles of bingeing and compensatory behaviors. The most common compensatory behaviour is self-induced vomiting, but others include laxatives, diuretics, fasting, and excessive exercise. It is a common misconception that all BN patients self-induce vomiting—not so, while most do, there is a sizeable minority that does not (Keski-Rahkonen et al, 2009).

Individuals with BN are typically normal weight or overweight. This isn’t by chance; it is almost by definition. If someone binges and purges but is underweight, they will most likely be diagnosed with anorexia nervosa (AN) binge/purge subtype. Importantly, these diagnostic categories are not static, distinct groups, as over 50% of those diagnosed with restricting type AN cross over to bingeing/purging type within 5 years of ED onset, and about one-third cross over to BN (Eddy et al. 2008). So, take these diagnostic categories with a grain of salt.

Prevalence & Mortality

EDs have a high mortality rate, but keep in mind that prevalence and mortality statistics always depend on the duration of the study, the study size, and the population studied (among other things). However, most studies converge on a lifetime prevalence of BN somewhere between 1-2% (0.9-1.5 among women and 0.1-0.5% among men) (Smink et al., 2012).

The standardized mortality ratio (bulimia patients/normal, age-controlled population) for BN varies from ~2-5 (Arcelus et al., 2011). In one study of 906 individuals with BN, 3.9% died in the mean follow-up of 19 years, with suicide accounting for 23% of those deaths (Crow et al., 2009).

Causes

As much as people like the point the finger at the media and ‘thin culture,’ this explanation cannot be the whole story. After all, we are all exposed to images of thin models, and yet only 1-2% of women experience BN at some point in their lives. What is it about this percentage of women that makes them susceptible to BN?

Certainly, genetics plays a role.

Family studies are useful for determining if a particular disorder aggregates in families, though they cannot decipher if that aggregation is due to genetic risk factors of shared environmental factors (such as an over-emphasis on weight and appearance). These studies have shown that first-degree relatives of BN patients have a 4.4-9.6 higher likelihood of having BN than relatives of healthy controls (Kassett et al., 1989; Stein et al., 1999; Strober et al., 2000; ).

Twin studies are another good way to delineate the effects of genes and environment. These studies have shown that between 54-83% of the variation we see in BN is accounted for by genetic effects (Bulik et al. 1998, 2010; Kortegaard et al. 2001; Wade et al. 1999). (Note, this DOES NOT mean genes cause 54-83% of the disorder.)

This does not mean there are genes for BN (genes code for proteins, after all). However, commonly occurring temperament and personality traits might account for some of the genetic risk factors. Traits such as perfectionism, obsessionality, sensitivity to reward and punishment, and impulsivity often occur before ED onset and persist following recovery for many patients (Kump et al., 2004).

In addition, neurotransmitter systems, such as serotonin and dopamine, appear to modulate a lot of the traits associated with eating disorders. Indeed, serotonin might play an important function in the development of BN (and, along with the effects of estrogen, might partly explain why females are much more likely to suffer from EDs than males.)

It is almost important to emphasize that EDs are not “Western” disorders that arise solely due to an overemphasis on thinness. To provide just a few examples, blind women are not immune to EDs, and Iranian women living in Tehran exhibit similar levels of disordered eating behaviours as their counterparts in Los Angeles.

Behaviour does not occur in a vacuum. Genetics and environment both play a role. (For more on causes, see this post.)

Comorbidities

Eating disorders are generally highly comorbid with depression and anxiety disorders (Blinder et al., 2006). As mentioned earlier, patients with eating disorder tend to score high on perfectionism, neuroticism, impulsivity (particularly for BN patients), harm avoidance and obsessive-compulsive disorder. Among BN patients, the most common personality disorder appears to be borderline personality disorder (Sansone et al., 2005).

Treatment & Outcomes

Treatment for BN can include outpatient, inpatient, and/or residential treatments, among other things. As readers of FtB are well aware, any hard to treat diseases and disorders always attract pseudoscientific treatments. So, what treatments are evidence-based?

SSRIs, interestingly enough, have been shown to be effective in reducing the frequency of bingeing and purging in BN patients compared to placebo, particularly fluoxetine/Prozac (reviewed in Flament et al., 2012 and Hay et al., 2012). Cognitive-behavioural therapy is also widely considered to be an evidence-based treatment for BN (though, I have my reservations) (Murphy et al., 2010). In the end, the most important thing is to have a strong therapeutic alliance between the patient and the treatment team/therapist, as well as motivation to change.

In terms of outcomes, the results depend on length of follow-up, duration of illness, and sample population (i.e., how sick are the patients?). However, one large review found that about 45% of BN patients fully recovered, 27% improved, and 23% had a chronic course (Steinhausen et al., 2009).

Problems with the DSM

Compared to the problems with anorexia nervosa (AN), there are not as many. However, here are two things that annoy me:

  • Arbitrary frequency and duration criteria (2x/week for 3 months) (This will be reduced to 1x/week in the DSM-V.)
  • Too focused on weight (“compensatory behavior in order to prevent weight gain” and “self-evaluation is unduly influenced by body shape and weight”). These can certainly be true, but they don’t have to be. Bingeing and purging can just be a tool to regulate emotions.

Common Myths

Here are some other common myths that I haven’t mentioned yet:

  • BN patients throw up everything they eat. No, but some do, sometimes. The frequency and extent of behaviours varies a lot.
  • BN patients should just eat 5-small meals a day. Well, yes, but the problem has got nothing to do with not knowing how to eat well in theory.
  • BN is on the increase. Actually, studies suggest is pretty stable or even decreasing.
  • It is an effective weight control method (i.e., it is safe). I suppose, if you are okay with the plethora of medical complications (including death).

And one that bothers me the most:

  • BN is just about vanity. Actually, for me, bingeing and purging is incredibly anxiety reducing, and I’m usually symptomatic when I’m stressed, overwhelmed, or feel like crap about myself (not productive enough, for example). A sense of calmness and tranquility often follows self-induced vomiting (and I’m not alone in feeling this way).

Hopefully I’ve covered the basics. If you want to know more about BN, feel free to ask me questions in the comments, send me an email or check out BN-related posts on my blog here.


Tetyana was diagnosed with restricting type anorexia when she was in grade 10, started bingeing and purging at the end of first year in university. Her eating disorder has been all over the place, and she enrolled in outpatient treatment in high-school. She will be attending Women in Secularism conference. (Where I finally get to meet her!) You can follow her on Twitter.

Previous Psychopathology-Sum Ups:

Specific Phobias
Bipolar Disorder
Types of Antidepressants