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Take Control of your Teenager | No Thanks |
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| Emotional Issues behind a teen's distorted body-image |
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A number of emotional issues can lie behind one’s distorted view of one’s self. When a troubled teenager is struggling with an unhealthy self-concept, dangerous ideas may come to her mind. If you happen to catch your child making a negative comment about her body in front of the mirror one morning, this may be just the tip of the iceberg. You may have no idea of what kind of abuse she may be receiving from the negative mindset.
The following is one teen’s personal account of her bout with an eating disorder. This distinct essay may let a parent see into the mind of a teenager suffering from bulimia nervosa and enslaved by the powerful negative mindset. For more information refer to Bulimia Nervosa. by: Claire E. Net I could feel my stomach up to my chin. It was hard to breathe. Just moving hurt, it hurt everywhere. All this ‘dirt’ was inside me- the pesto, the bread, the ice cream. Slowly, I got up and took my short walk of shame to the bathroom. On the bathroom floor, the cream white tiles looked so pure. They were beaming at me, teasing me relentlessly with their shiny surface. I came face to face with myself in the bathroom mirror and I recognized that weary face. She was sick, sick and tired of this shit. But there was nothing I could do to help her, all but stare into empty glass eyes. I was filled to the brim as my stomach screamed with a fullness which deafened me, but I felt hollow inside. “Forgive me,” my mind whispered. Bending down over the white plastic toilet seat, I leaned my left arm on the off-white sink which seemingly matched the tiles with a beaming smirk. I lowered my head. It felt as if I were bowing down to Her Royal Highness. At these moments, ‘I’ was powerless. ‘She’ was my master, and ‘I’ her slave, pitifully yearning to please Her. Abruptly, I shoved my right index, middle, and ring fingers into my mouth. I could feel the ‘dirt’ coming back up my throat. I would be clean soon. With a sudden gush, a mess of pesto sauce, mashed tomatoes and liquefied strawberry ice cream poured out of my mouth, falling into the toilet like a perverse fountain. Mercifully, She let me take a moment as I heaved for breath, and I stared into the slush perplexed. The rancid smell of a pink-tinged slush with black speckles and a cobbled texture to it, oddly fascinated me. “MORE!” She yowled. All I had was a moment and my knuckles were grating against my teeth. It would be harder now. The ‘initial flow of dirt’ was done and along with it came most of my liquid. I used my middle and index fingers to probe at the back of my throat. Dry clumps of ‘dirt’ rose. Shoving my fingers back down, harsh clumps sluggishly made their way up. Again and again, as I forced my fingers down, less and less came up. From a once smooth flowing fountain of puke, only dry heavy clumps chucked out of my gaping mouth. “WHY ARE YOU STOPPING, YOU SLEAZY SHIT! DON’T EVER STOP!” She screamed. “Forgive me.” I whispered ever-so timidly in reply. The blood rushed through my veins and straight to my head with so much pressure. My face hurt. I stole a quick glance at my reflection and the visage of the girl staring back pulsated with a reddish glow. Her eyes were no longer glass. They watered with life as bloodshot veins surrounded the center of trickling pools. “MORE!” Ramming in all fingers but my thumb, I tried to bring something, anything up—one last morsel I could offer Her. But with a sudden wheeze accompanied by a stabbing pain in my chest, I abruptly left my sore lips with some solace. If I died, how could I ever serve Her again? I’m of more use to Her alive than dead, I thought. Splatters of the putrid ‘dirt’ spattered all over the once-beaming tiles. The bleach white toilet was a sickening kaleidoscope of colors and textures. “CLEAN IT UP!” After all the gagging sounds, there was an eerie silence. The calmness was saddening. Without making a sound, I slowly pulled at the tissue roll’s end and wiped up my spatters of spit from the tiles. Opening the faucet, I let the pure, clear liquid pour out onto the tissue’s whiteness. I wiped up Her royal seat till it was gleaming white once again. Throwing the tissue into the waste basket, I took a shaky step out of the bathroom. My stomach felt soothingly empty, now it matched just how I felt inside—hollow. I was clean again. -- In this account of a teenager faced with distorted body-image issues, we can note a number of symbols used which have significant corresponding meanings. Describing feelings of a distorted body-image can be quite a challenge. In order to grasp whatever it is your teenager may be truly feeling about his/her self-concept, it is not uncommon for him/her to relate his/her feelings using symbols. It may be up to you, to catch the meanings of whatever hints your child may be putting across. Slowly, I got up and took my short walk of shame to the bathroom. As she describes the walk to the bathroom as a short walk of shame, we can understand how ashamed she may feel of the events to come when she reaches the bathroom. I came face to face with myself in the bathroom mirror and I recognized that weary face. She was sick, sick and tired of this shit. Her coming face to face with herself in the mirror is symbolic of her seeing the struggle with the negative mindset she has been enduring. I was filled to the brim as my stomach screamed with a fullness which deafened me, but I felt hollow inside. It is common for those teenagers who suffer from an eating disorder to turn to food as a source of comfort at times when things go wrong. But it is a hollow source of comfort, because after she eats and fills herself, the deeper issue-- an unhealthy self-concept remains. “Forgive me,” my mind whispered. Often times, despite how a troubled teenager suffering from Bulimia may engage in the binge-purge cycle several times in a day, she still feels guilt for what she is doing when she induces vomit because she can still be aware that what she is doing to herself is wrong. I lowered my head. It felt as if I were bowing down to Her Royal Highness. At these moments, ‘I’ was powerless. ‘She’ was my master, and ‘I’ her slave, pitifully yearning to please Her. WHY ARE YOU STOPPING, YOU SLEAZY SHIT! DON’T EVER STOP!” She screamed. “Forgive me.” I whispered ever-so timidly in reply. The negative mindset can often be described as a master that the afflicted feels compelled to follow. This negative mindset can definitely be overpowering for the troubled teen. I tried to bring something, anything up—one last morsel I could offer Her. From this line, we can have a picture of how much importance is actually given to the negative mindset. It is a controlling distortion which can definitely alter a teenager’s correct sense of self and body. My stomach felt soothingly empty, now it matched just how I felt inside—hollow. I was clean again. For the majority of sufferers of Bulimia and other eating disorders where the binge-purge cycle is involved, immediately after purging a sensation of calm may fill the afflicted. The food that is oftentimes eaten in a frantic manner of desperation can be associated with dirt, and being rid of it may leave him/her feeling ‘clean’ once again. But the deeper issue of a wounded sense of self remains within. |
