Triggers…

A common word in the world in which I live is ‘trigger.’ Maybe when someone that doesn’t share the same problem as me hears trigger they think of the little piece on a gun that gives it the power to shoot. However, a trigger is also something — an idea, place, memory, object, or person — that causes negative or unhealthy actions.

As a girl with anorexia, triggers are very common, and very difficult to manage. While I was still in treatment, I was triggered very easily and it cause a great deal of stress and anxiety. I remember that while I was there, if I heard of a new patient being admitted that day, I had to prepare myself and avoid her/him at all costs. I was mortified that they would be pretier than me, sicklier than me, and skinnier than me. However, I was in treatment over a year ago, and I have learned to handle triggers better. I am still triggered easily, I just know now how to manage them in a much more effective way. I used to see a thin person and automatically be submerged into a sea of thoughts and feelings that were destructive, violent, and cruel toward my self and my body.

As I got healthier within the walls of my treatment facility, it made going out into the world much more difficult because I compared myself to nearly everyone I saw — even small children. It wasn’t fair to myself. I was unfamiliar with the body I was in — a body in transition — one that wasn’t hard and angular and bony… one that wasn’t starved.

Triggers can come in strange ways. Some aren’t always negative. Recently, I was watching Netflix one afternoon — a hot and humid summer day (one that made watching Netflix alone in my cozy bed justified) — with a summer cold. Into the Wild appeared, and I decided to watch it. Soon enough I was delved into the sad yet fascinating journey of Chris McCandless, a.k.a. Alexander Supertramp — an Emory graduate who gave up his worldly possessions to seek out the greatness and the vastness of the wild. In pursuing ultimate freedom, Chris ulitmately lost his life to the Alaskan Bush.

I read Into the Wild while I began to develop anorexia. By watching that movie, I was delved back into that time — I remember reading that book up in my room on my bed because at 2:17 am, I couldn’t sleep due to the gnawing hunger in my gut.

I also remember feeling as though I could relate to Chris in a way… and once again I feel the same. Maybe not driven by the same force, but to just drive away from the world I know and say “fuck it.”

One of the best pieces I have ever written was about Chris and his story — it was a letter addressed to Chris from the author of Into the Wild, Jon Krakauer. It went along the lines of asking Chris to stop for a moment, and simply reflect. I didn’t beg him to think of his parents or future or how he has his whole life ahead of him or any of that bullshit. We teenagers hear that all of the time, and so do we anorexics — why wouldn’t you want to recover and get better? You have your whole life ahead of you! — and I know that not one damn word of all of it makes a lick of difference in whether I’ll eat my dinner or not.

So, I asked Chris to think of himself. I asked him to think of his heart, lungs, his very mortal body that isn’t — wasn't — invincible. I think the reason that the paper poured out of me so flawlessly was because I was in the same place as Chris: shortly into a self-destructive journey in pursuit of an unattainable goal of perfection. I could’ve ended up in the exact same grave as Chris — dying of starvation and weakness.

So, I didnt write that letter to Chris, I wrote it to myself. I begged that girl to think about what she was doing to her body, her mind, and her spirit by denying her food.

Now I stand here (or sit at my kitchen table writing) over two years later, still struggling with the same demon, even after being hospitalized and admitted to a treatment center. I stand here, still triggered, but not as easily, and still wondering in an odd mix of anger, fascination, sadness, and respect, why Chris chose the path that he did…

…And I bet people around me today that know of my own struggle wonder in the same way why I took the path I did.