Andy’s Story: Healing Together, Finding Hope as a Family
Andy was our younger brother. He was energetic, charming, and funny from his earliest years. He had a mischievous streak that got him into his fair share of trouble, but never anything too serious. He was always a kind and generous person who would go out of his way to help anyone around him, and he loved to make people laugh.
The Beginning
When Andy was in second grade, he began to eat his pencils in school. He wouldn’t just put teeth marks in the wood or bite down on the eraser. Andy would chew on pencils to the point that he was actually consuming them. When his teacher discovered this habit our parents were told and Andy was warned of the potential harms of eating paint, wood, and graphite–or anything that wasn’t food. For a while they thought that this solved the problem, but then more chewed up pencils were discovered. Andy had not stopped the habit, he had merely learned to hide it better.
This wasn’t the only eating-related behavior that got Andy into trouble as a boy.
Our mother would frequently discover candy wrappers and empty food packaging stuffed into his pockets or hidden in his backpack. This usually led to him being reprimanded for sneaking junk food without permission, but it was only years later that Andy was able to tell us what was actually happening: that he was developing rituals where he could compulsively eat as much as he physically could, regardless of whether or not he felt hungry.
Andy Felt Out of Control
Andy started to noticeably gain weight in his youth, at first appearing to be a bit stockier than the rest of us, but over time becoming larger and larger He would tell us later that this was a long-term source of shame, exacerbated by the fact that his weight limited his ability to participate in hobbies he’d previously enjoyed and isolated him from social situations that involved any activity. Where, as a child he once played soccer and swam competitively, by his 20’s and 30’s activities like getting dressed and tying his shoes were physically taxing and sometimes impossible Things we take for granted were unavailable to him. The world was not designed to accommodate his body, so he missed out on things like concerts and movies; when he flew he had to purchase two tickets; children (and sometimes adults) would stare at him in public or comment under their breath. He felt judgement and embarrassment everywhere he went.
Those of us who loved Andy tried our best to help and support him, but none of us really understood what he was dealing with.
Andy himself didn’t understand and was too ashamed to share the extent of his struggle. Nothing we said or did, or what Andy himself attempted – diets, personal trainers, even uprooting his life to be nearer to family – had a lasting impact. Everything only seemed to increase his guilt. He felt like a failure, like he was letting everyone around him down.
Andy Got Help
Then, when he was at possibly his lowest point, he discovered a treatment center that accepted patients with stories that sounded like his. The program required a lot – it was a significant, life-altering commitment, but he felt that it was his only choice; the alternative was to finally give up. So, he went. The experience was life saving.
In treatment, Andy learned that he was suffering from Binge Eating Disorder, one of the most common eating disorders but also one of the most under-diagnosed and least familiar to the general public. He learned to understand and own his disorder, to see its patterns. He gained tools and techniques for disrupting its grip. He taught his family and friends how to more effectively communicate with him about his disorder and that his path to healthier living started with tending to his mental health. Most significantly, he learned to see himself as separate from the disorder and to love the self that he saw.
Andy’s diagnosis and treatment forever changed his life. To his family it seemed as though he had been freed of a burden he had carried since childhood. While we know that he still suffered moments of self-doubt, embarrassment, and depression (because he told us so) we also know that he no longer felt the isolation and constant shame that had dominated his life for so long.
Healing and Helping Others
As Andy progressed with his recovery and learned how to live with his disorder, he felt an increasing desire to help others who were struggling like he had been for so long. Andy committed himself to helping others find the answers and support that he had been missing for so much of his life. He volunteered his time to travel and share his story around the country. He became an active member of multiple eating disorder support groups. He even started to pursue becoming a certified therapist so that he could go further to help others find their own roads to recovery.
Unfortunately, that’s where Andy’s story ends.
Just a few years after setting himself on this new path, Andy passed away suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of 38 due to an unrelated and undiagnosed condition. It is still a struggle not to dwell on all of the good things that were ahead for him that will now not be, but we are forever grateful that at the end of his life Andy was truly in a place of love and that he was able to experience both giving and receiving it fully. His journey of discovery and recovery finally allowed him to separate himself from his disorder, embrace life, and connect deeply with others.
Andy isn’t here to tell his story, but we are. We’re sharing it now with the hope that doing so might help others in need find a path to their own recovery, and perhaps to saving their own lives.
Not all disorders fit the mold we’re conditioned to see. We strive in Andy’s example to let no one struggle alone. You are not alone.
