"Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It's not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything." -Muhammad Ali
I've sat by the phone for months now. Composed countless letters. And practiced the conversation over a hundred times in my head. But somehow I can't find the courage to say those words. To say what needs to be said: "I'm worried about you."
My best friend has an eating disorder. So hard to see those words on paper. To see them and know that I've done nothing.
We whisper behind her back. Give knowing looks to each other as she quickly leaves the table after every meal. Call each other and talk about how she's disappearing before our eyes. And still, we say nothing.
My friends and I are paralyzed. Paralyzed by the fear that we have it wrong. That it's all in our heads. Or, that in confronting her, we could alienate her further and exacerbate the problem.
But it is in keeping silent that we are truly making it worse. We are enabling her to continue her dangerous behaviors, enabling her to suffer, to put her life in danger.
Why is this so hard? Were it any other destructive behavior, say drug addiction, I would confront her immediately with outstretched arms. Why not now? Eating disorders are just as life-threatening. I know firsthand.
My own battle with anorexia a decade ago, which now seems so distant, is relived each time I'm with her. I see the panicked look in her eyes when a plate of food is brought to the table and I hear the pain in her voice when she makes yet another excuse to stay home alone. I know what she is feeling and I know that it is a horrible existence. But I also realize that unless she is ready to stop, I cannot force her hand.
Eating disorders are an addiction. They are a compulsive behavior that, after a certain point, cannot be stopped without outside intervention. A true eating disorder is not just "a diet gone wrong" in which the person can simply decide to eat again. Some preliminary research even points to an imbalance in brain chemistry as a possible mechanism for the illness.
Recovery requires medical attention, including intensive psychotherapy and often, pharmaceutical intervention. But recovery also requires a strong support system at all stages, but especially in the very beginning.
If you, like me, are watching someone you love suffer, please don't stay silent. Don't let fear of an awkward conversation or a temporary strain in your relationship prevent you from doing what you know is right.
In honor of National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (Feb. 27-Mar. 5), this month's BALANCE highlights several important topics. The first, a feature article by Lesley Shiery, continues our discussion on the severity of the illness and outlines the distinction between "disordered eating" and a full-blown eating disorder.
Next, Mary Kennedy looks at another facet of many sufferers' lives: exercise addiction. And finally, our "How To" column features practical advice for approaching a friend or a loved one, as well as important resources available on campus.
So, although I cannot force my friend into recovery, I can take the first steps in letting her know that when she is ready for help, I am here for her. I can pick up the phone and reach out my hand and make a call that could save her life. I can and I will.
