Addicted to Starving: The Lure of Anorexia

Addiction is a strange thing. No one sets out to become addicted, whether it is to cigarettes, prescription medications, alcohol or any other substance. My father had been an alcoholic and he had made our lives a living hell. I never wanted to see myself in that light.

Then I developed anorexia nervosa. At first, I didn't think of it as an illness of addiction. My husband and I argued about it one night several years ago. I had again started the cycle — restrict, starve, purge with laxatives as needed, and repeat every day.

"You're addicted to starving," he said.

"Anorexia isn't addiction. Anorexia is totally different," I argued. "If you would read some books or something . . . You don't know what you're talking about, you don't understand at all."

"I did read that one book, and anorexia is an addiction. Just like alcoholism."

Anorexia as an Addiction

Fighting The Family Curse

I felt as if he had slapped me in the face. I was not an addict. My father and grandfather both had been addicted to alcohol, cigarettes and gambling. I watched my father battle alcoholism for years; his drunken rages ruining my childhood and adolescence, making me hate Christmas for years because what I most remembered was decorated trees being torn down in anger and hiding in the bedroom as my mother and father would yell at each other, as if they couldn't stop some sort of weird dance they had to perform every holiday.

I swore my life would be different; that I would be different. Then I went away to college and drank my way through two years at Michigan State University, losing the full-ride scholarship I had earned for being such a good student in high school. I was drinking one night at the bar when I was offered a cigarette, and I became a full-time smoker. I eventually ditched both these habits after graduating with my degree in psychology and working as a social worker, and I began to think I had escaped the family curse of addiction.

Anorexia Is Being Addicted To Starving

I was not an addict. I had anorexia. The two things were different in my mind, and I couldn't believe that was what my husband thought of me.

"You're addicted to starving," he repeated. "You can't seem to stop, no matter what. You know it will kill you, but for some reason, you still starve yourself. That's addiction."

Much later, I realized he was right. I was addicted to starving. Every time I came close to a healthy weight, I pulled back and started cutting out food. I craved the feeling of starvation, the emptiness I felt inside after purging with laxatives, the lightheadedness and dizziness and the way my head would swim if I stood up too quickly. I craved the feeling of bones and a concave stomach and thighs so thin they didn't touch. I craved thinness the way I imagine my father had craved a cold beer after a day at the factory.

I was addicted to starving, and for a long time I struggled to overcome that addiction.

Part 2: Breaking the cycle of anorexia addiction

Note: I decided to focus on the addictive qualities of anorexia nervosa to reflect on my personal experiences. However, there are studies and articles that explore the addictive nature of other eating disorders, and I invite you to share your stories in the comment section of this post.