Fear of the unplannable and of losing control prevented Sara F. from eating and led her into a life-threatening anorexia. A long road led her back to a healthy life.
When I was very unwell, I still weighed 36 kilograms. The doctors told me I could die because my liver was getting worse and worse. I understood that, but it didn’t trigger anything in me. I no longer felt anything.
It all started in spring 2016, in the 9th grade. A lot had just come together: My school days were coming to an end. The apprenticeship contract was signed. My grandmother died. It was such a diffuse time of transition, nothing felt certain and a lot was vague and unpredictable. At the same time, I felt that my body and appearance became more and more of an important topic at school and with friends. Being “good” and “right” was defined by the body. I was insecure and never felt good enough. I had always been sporty and decided to watch what I ate a bit more and do more sport.
I didn’t want it to be all about the food
Eating gave me the control I usually lacked over my life. I started eating less and making sure I was eating healthily, so I was doing something right. However, I very quickly slipped into anorexia. Of course, my family and friends noticed that I was losing weight very quickly. I soon realized myself that something was wrong with me, that I no longer had a normal relationship with food. For me, everything revolved around food. I didn’t want it to be so important, but I couldn’t help myself. My mother understood me, but she was also powerless. I remember sitting at the table together and both of us crying because I couldn’t eat.
I wanted help, but I wasn’t ready for it
First I went to the family doctor. I didn’t feel that he took me seriously, but I still tried everything he recommended. But nothing worked. But why? I had to and I wanted to do something! In 2018, I decided to go to the clinic for the first time. This was followed by several hospital stays at various locations. My employer supported me the whole time, so I was able to take a break from my apprenticeship for the first hospital stay, for example. I still think that’s great today and am very grateful to him for it.
The hospital stays did not result in a breakthrough. Today I also know why. I wanted help, but I wasn’t ready for it. Every hospital stay has brought something, but there were also moments of success and phases when I felt better. But I unconsciously waited years for the “right” moment. I also wanted to plan and control it, I wanted to know exactly what would help me. But that doesn’t work. The right moment to start is simple: now.
I was ill, not weak-willed
The fourth stay at the ZES, the Center for Eating Disorders at the University Hospital Zurich, was my last chance there. The therapist and my program – it clicked and fitted. It still took me a long time to accept that I had a mental illness and that I therefore had no control and was not to blame. I was not weak-willed. I was simply afraid. Fear of change, of growing up, of life, of everything that I couldn’t control and threatened to overwhelm me. At the ZES, I was shown the limits and at the same time gradually given responsibility for myself. That was the key to success for me. I was able to practise acting and being an adult. And I learned that I can’t and don’t have to control everything.
I learned to relinquish control
Of course there were setbacks and defeats. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to live without the disease. I would have to get a grip on everything that I had unconsciously taken refuge from in the illness. And at the same time, there would be a lot that I couldn’t control. I had to develop images and perspectives, I had to do something without a plan and learn to give up control and take it back. And nothing bad happened! The healthy moments became more frequent. I was able to go through this maturing process at ZES. The specialists helped me, of course, but also my fellow patients. We supported and helped each other. I am still friends with some of them. My environment was powerless, but I always experienced understanding and concern. That was important. And my sister! She is my role model! She is completely different from me. In many situations, I therefore asked myself: What would she do now? That helped me and gave me courage and confidence.
The body recovers faster than the mind
I have always been open about my eating disorder. Not all those affected can do this. That’s why I always talk a little for them too. But the body makes the disease visible anyway. I had an ambivalent relationship with it. I wanted and was happy for my body to show that I wasn’t feeling well, that I was ill. At the same time, I felt ashamed, because it was also a sign that I didn’t have something under control. The body recovers more quickly than the head. That is why even well-meaning comments about the body or about food do not help when those affected are physically on the road to recovery.
I’m fine today. I see things differently. I enjoy small successes when I have achieved something. And sometimes things just don’t work out or go differently than planned. Fortunately, I didn’t suffer any damage to my health. I’m playing football again, I do sport when I feel like exercising. My eating habits are healthy. I am no longer afraid.
