Breaking the Silence: Navigating Anorexia and Military Healthcare as a Teen
CW/TW: Blood draw, medical misconduct
Everything went dark.
I felt a nurse repeatedly tap the back of my hand. Another asked my mom, “Does she do this often?”
“No.” my mom replied, “But we think she’s anorexic.”
I was splayed across the green vinyl chair, my fleece sweatshirt, which had been in my lap, now draped around my feet. Even though it was summer, I was always cold.
I had passed out in an army hospital lab down the street from our house in Virginia while getting blood drawn for testing to be admitted to the adolescent outpatient program on the top floor. I was severely dehydrated and underweight.
I had been in denial up until that point concerning my eating disorder, convinced I had it under control and that I was okay. I didn’t and I wasn’t.
My mom and I spent the day in the ER. I received two IVs while covered in blankets and heating pads as the nurses attempted to draw blood several times before they were successful, leaving my arms bruised and sore.
It had been a stressful day full of uncertainties, and I was clueless about what recovery would entail. Shortly before I was discharged, an ER doctor walked past and said to me, “If I ever see you in here again, I’m gonna shove a cheeseburger down your throat.” He left me petrified.
A couple of weeks later, I was put into the adolescent outpatient program and began treatment, where I was the only patient with an eating disorder.
I was on the receiving end of comments such as, “Well, why can’t you just eat more?”, “Eat more of XYZ, it’s not hard,” and “I don’t know what depression means.” All said by medical professionals.
For several years, my family and I would walk into therapy feeling hopeful we were on the right track, only to leave feeling confused and frustrated. It didn’t help that, on average, we had a new counselor every three months, making it challenging to build a rapport.
As my weight yo-yoed throughout my teens, I underwent EKGs and was tested for osteoporosis. Hospitalization loomed over me. It was that, or my eating disorder would eventually take my life.
Thankfully, we started working with an eating disorder specialist in the annex building across the parking lot from the army hospital. I have no idea how long the specialist had been working there, but the fact remained that she had been there. Her office was in the same building I would go to for group therapy after I was discharged from the outpatient program. So, how did we fall through the cracks? As soon as she had started there, someone should have said something to us. Someone must have known.
We quickly began working with the specialist, and she suggested the Maudsley Method. Essentially, my parents made all my meals and snacks, gave me the appropriate amount, and ensured I finished all my food. In a few months, I was at a healthy weight, and my body was functioning properly for the first time in years; I wasn’t losing clumps of hair, I wasn’t freezing anymore, and best of all, I was happy. (Please note: the Maudsley Method has now been discredited as a modern tool for eating disorder treatment.)
All these years later, I still get frustrated thinking about how long it took to find the proper care. We lived right outside the nation’s capital, with some of the best hospitals and physicians in the country. Why was it so challenging? Why were we left in the dark for so long?
Historically, finding an authorized provider through TRICARE has been extremely difficult. Even today, if you look on TRICARE’s website for information, as many military families do, you read two sentences, “TRICARE covers services necessary to treat eating disorders. Facilities must meet certification requirements to be covered.” Followed by a disclaimer that reads, “This list of covered services is not all-inclusive. TRICARE covers services that are medically necessary and considered proven. There are special rules or limits on certain services, and some services are excluded.”
The SERVE ACT, passed in 2021, expanded the age of residential care to include those over the age of 20, as in the past, TRICARE only covered those under the age of 20. Several years later, the SERVE ACT has still not been instituted, severely impacting those needing treatment.
This lack of formal training is detrimental to patients, and a delay in care could potentially lead to death. Eating disorder patients deserve better than that.
Please note I am not a medical professional, but in my opinion, those who are ought to be at least able to recognize the signs of an eating disorder and point their patients in the right direction to an eating disorder specialist and not be placed in a general therapy type setting.
I spent years in a setting like that, and it prolonged my suffering, allowing anorexia to tighten its hold on me. I felt so alone. I didn’t know anyone else like me.
But I wasn’t alone.
Military spouses and children are three times more likely to develop an eating disorder than the civilian population.
Why do rates of eating disorders tend to be higher among military dependents compared to the civilian population?
According to the study “Parental Deployment and Distress, and Adolescent Disordered Eating in Prevention-Seeking Military Dependents,” compared to their civilian peers, military dependents face additional stressors that may contribute to the development of an eating disorder.
Stressors include deployments, their parents’ long work hours, and frequent moving. They see their parents maintaining their appearance in uniform standards, which is crucial for career advancement. Military personnel may engage in disordered eating behaviors to meet the Physical Readiness Test (PRT) standards, conducted once or twice a year, depending on the branch.
Military children are acutely aware of their surroundings, which can lead to anxiety and internalization of certain attitudes toward eating and body image.
That was me.
But I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m better now, happy, and living life the way I had always hoped. My parents never stopped fighting for me, even on the days I gave up on myself.
I will always speak about my experiences because I never want anyone to feel alone. I write to take back the power my eating disorder stole from me for so many years. It stole my teenage years and nearly took my life, but I no longer let it rule me.
If you are struggling with an eating disorder, know you are not alone, and there are people who care, including me. Please reach out for help. I know it’s daunting when you don’t know where to turn, but the wonderful people at Project HEAL are always here for support. If you’re military, reach out to SEA WAVES.
And remember, recovery is worth the fight.
