Orthorexia Nervosa

[Guest guest]

Original Essay on Orthorexia

First published in the October 1997 issue of YOGA

JOURNAL.

©2003 Steven Bratman, M.D.

 

Orthorexia Nervosa

 

Many of the most unbalanced people I have ever met are

those who have devoted themselves to healthy eating.

In fact, I believe some of them have actually

contracted a novel eating disorder for which I have

coined the name " orthorexia nervosa. "

The term uses " ortho, " meaning straight, correct, and

true, to modify " anorexia nervosa. " Orthorexia nervosa

refers to a pathological fixation on eating proper

food.

 

Orthorexia begins, innocently enough, as a desire to

overcome chronic illness or to improve general health.

But because it requires considerable willpower to

adopt a diet that differs radically from the food

habits of childhood and the surrounding culture, few

accomplish the change gracefully. Most must resort to

an iron self-discipline bolstered by a hefty dose of

superiority over those who eat junk food. Over time,

what to eat, how much, and the consequences of dietary

indiscretion come to occupy a greater and greater

proportion of the orthorexic's day.

 

The act of eating pure food begins to carry

pseudospiritual connotations. As orthorexia

progresses, a day filled with sprouts, umeboshi plums,

and amaranth biscuits comes to feel as holy as one

spent serving the poor and homeless. When an

orthorexic slips up (which may involve anything from

devouring a single raisin to consuming a gallon of

Haagen Dazs ice cream and a large pizza), he

experiences a fall from grace and must perform

numerous acts of penitence. These usually involve

ever-stricter diets and fasts.

 

This " kitchen spirituality " eventually reaches a point

where the sufferer spends most of his time planning,

purchasing, and eating meals. The orthorexic's inner

life becomes dominated by efforts to resist

temptation, self-condemnation for lapses, self-praise

for success at complying with the chosen regime, and

feelings of superiority over others less pure in their

dietary habits.

 

This transference of all of life's value into the act

of eating makes orthorexia a true disorder. In this

essential characteristic, orthorexia bears many

similarities to the two well-known eating disorders

anorexia and bulimia. Where the bulimic and anorexic

focus on the quantity of food, the orthorexic fixates

on its quality. All three give food an excessive place

in the scheme of life.

 

As often happens, my sensitivity to the problem of

orthorexia comes through personal experience. I myself

passed through a phase of extreme dietary purity.

 

When I wasn't cooking at the commune, I managed the

organic farm. This gave me constant access to fresh,

high-quality produce. I became such a snob that I

disdained any vegetable that had been plucked from the

ground for more than 15 minutes. I was a total

vegetarian, chewed each mouthful of food 50 times,

always ate in a quiet place (which meant alone), and

left my stomach partially empty at the end of each

meal.

 

After a year or so of this self-imposed regime, I felt

clear-headed, strong, and self-righteous. I regarded

the wretched, debauched souls about me downing their

chocolate chip cookies and french fries as mere

animals reduced to satisfying gustatory lusts. But I

wasn't complacent in my virtue. Feeling an obligation

to enlighten my weaker brethren, I continually

lectured friends and family on the evils of refined,

processed food and the dangers of pesticides and

artificial fertilizers.

 

I pursued wellness through healthy eating for years,

but gradually I began to sense that something was

going wrong. The poetry of my life was disappearing.

My ability to carry on normal conversations was

hindered by intrusive thoughts of food. The need to

obtain meals free of meat, fat, and artificial

chemicals had put nearly all social forms of eating

beyond my reach. I was lonely and obsessed.

 

Even when I became aware that my scrabbling in the

dirt after raw vegetables and wild plants had become

an obsession, I found it terribly difficult to free

myself. I had been seduced by righteous eating.

 

The problem of my life's meaning had been transferred

inexorably to food, and I could not reclaim it.

 

Tacos, Pizza, and a Milkshake

 

I was eventually saved from the doom of eternal

health-food addiction through two fortuitous events.

The first occurred when my guru in eating--a vegan

headed toward fruitarianism--suddenly abandoned his

quest. " A revelation came to me last night in a

dream, " he said. " Rather than eat my sprouts alone, it

would be better for me to share a pizza with some

friends. "

 

His plaintive statement stirred me, but I could do

nothing to change my way of life until a Benedictine

monk named Brother David Steindl-Rast kindly applied

some unorthodox techniques.

 

I had met Brother David at a seminar he gave on the

subject of gratitude. I offered to drive him home, and

on the way back to the monastery, I bragged a bit

about my oral self-discipline. Brother David's

approach over the subsequent days was a marvelous case

of teaching by example.

 

The drive was long. In the late afternoon, we stopped

for lunch at an unpromising Chinese restaurant in a

small town. To our surprise, the food was authentic,

the sauces were fragrant and tasty, the vegetables

fresh, and the eggrolls crisp and free from MSG. We

were both delighted.

 

After I had eaten the small portion which sufficed to

fill my stomach halfway, Brother David casually

mentioned his belief that it was an offense against

God to leave food uneaten on the table. Brother David

was a slim man, so I found it hardly credible that he

followed this precept generally. But he continued to

eat so much that I felt good manners, if not actual

spiritual guidance, required me to imitate his

example. I filled my belly for the first time in a

year.

 

Then he upped the ante. " I always think that ice cream

goes well with Chinese food, don't you? " he asked.

Ignoring my incoherent reply, Brother David directed

us to an ice cream parlor and purchased me a

triple-scoop cone. As we ate our ice cream, Brother

David led me on a two-mile walk. To keep my mind from

dwelling on my offense against the health-food gods,

he edified me with an unending stream of spiritual

stories. Later that evening, he ate an immense dinner

in the monastery dining room, all the while urging me

to take more of one dish or another.

 

I understood his point. But what mattered more to me

was the fact that a spiritual authority, a man for

whom I had the greatest respect, was giving me

permission to break my health-food vows. It proved a

liberating stroke.

 

Yet more than a month passed before I finally decided

to make a definitive break. I was filled with feverish

anticipation. Hordes of long-suppressed gluttonous

desires, their legitimacy restored, clamored to

receive their due. On the drive into town, I planned

and replanned my junk-food menu. Within 10 minutes of

arriving, I had eaten three tacos, a medium pizza, and

a large milkshake. Too stuffed to violate my former

vows further, I brought the ice cream sandwich and

banana split home. My stomach felt stretched to my

knees.

 

The next morning I felt guilty and defiled. Only the

memory of Brother David kept me from embarking on a

five-day fast. (I fasted only two days.) It took me at

least two more years to attain a middle way and eat

easily, without rigid calculation or wild swings.

 

Anyone who has ever suffered from anorexia or bulimia

will recognize classic patterns in this story: the

cyclic extremes, the obsession, the separation from

others. These are all symptoms of an eating disorder.

Having experienced them so vividly in myself 20 years

ago, I cannot overlook their presence in others...

 

— Steven Bratman, M.D.

 

©2003 Steven Bratman, M.D.

[Guest guest]

I would say that any kind of obsession is unhealthy for us. The old adage of

everything in moderation is a better way to live. Or even a little of what

you fancy is OK.

 

health love n light be with you

 

Harlee

 

http://www.andalucianaturally.co.uk/harlee.html

[Guest guest]

Orthorexia Nervosa

 

Many of the most unbalanced people I have ever met are

those who have devoted themselves to healthy eating.

 

To a certain extent, this is me but - I see it as a strength rather than a

weakness or illness,

If I eat junk, especially refined sugar, I feel zapped the next day (like now!),

It's my body crying out for another fix of the sugar-drug.

I've been eating whole-foods for so long now that I see my system as being

finely tuned and it can very easily become compromised by de-natured " so

called " food.

In another life, I used to roll up tubes of dried leaves, put them in my mouth

and (you've guessed it) set fire to them and inhale the fumes, if I did that

today it would throw my system out of balance - like junk food.

 

Ray.