Haider’s Eating Disorder- One Muslim Man’s Inspiring Battle for Survival- Part 2

At least one out of every ten people with an eating disorder is a man or a boy, yet most people still think of eating disorders as women-only. The resources available on the Internet reflect this mistaken thinking; most eating disorder-related sites speak only of women, while a few sites give a cursory mention of males.

 

Dear Readers,

Eating disorders in males: A neglected problem is revisited

In a society that places high value on the physical beauty and thinness of women, the thought that a male teenager represents one of the first documented eating disorder cases seems incomprehensible. But it is true. In 1694, London physician Richard Morton reported the first case of anorexia nervosa in a 16 year-old male.

Men Stuff.org

We continue with creating our awareness of Eating Disorders in Men in Pakistan and across the Muslim world.

Please find part two of the sequel to Haider’s ED story. Click here for Part 1. Thank you for your encouraging E-mails and feedback.

Part Two

The mean age of onset for bulimia is between 18 and 26 for males, compared to age16-18 in females. However, larger studies are needed to confirm that men tend to get bulimia at an older age than women.

In my first Semester, I failed, I flunked, whatever other adjective you want to use to qualify. I was served a notice by the university, a reprieve, another chance. The bulimia became worse when I received news of my grandmother’s heart attack. I packed my bags and took a train home. I threw up three times along the way. “Why didn’t you call me when she was ill?” I asked my step-mother. “I didn’t know where you were”, she replied. Why didn’t the others call me? “Ask them”, was her answer. My grandmother had been in hospital for some days now. It was because of her incessant request for me in her slow, incoherent speech that compelled them to contact me.

And one night after a binge, she told me about my birth mother, the story went on for quite a while when she all of a suddenly stopped, looked up at me and said; “Go and tell her I’m sorry”, she was weeping.  In years’ past, I had stopped thinking about my birth mother altogether because every time I became inquisitive, grandmother would shove food down my throat saying she left and went back to Pakistan… My grandmother died the next day. We went through the funeral. She was buried here.

After 4 days, our family lawyer came. She had left me some money in her will. There was a large brown envelope. The family lawyer told me a brief story of a woman who my grandmother selected from Pakistan. She was an orphan from Hunza valley, whom she could bring over to England, and who would do things her way as well as serve the family.

My father married her in Pakistan and once she came to England, he divorced her. He then married his university colleague who became pregnant. After I was born, she was sent packing. Grandmother really felt torn, because she was an obedient daughter-in-law, but wasn’t compatibility with my father. I was taken away from her because I was their blood. My grandmother wanted me to go to Hunza, ask her for forgiveness and be with her. In her last days, before the heart attack, she couldn’t get Noor out of her mind; she was holding onto tremendous guilt. Grandmother often sent her money, but that stopped 10 years ago. I still had the address where the money was sent.

I had my first breakdown when I went back to university. I kept on looking at an old picture of a young girl with wide eyes looking uncertainly at the camera. I googled Hunza valley in Pakistan. About to be thrown out of university and with my job under threat, I was referred to the university counselling department. My give away sign of bulimia was Russel scars on my knuckles. My boss who’s a Pakistani really helped out. He knew I was ill. My father was called, and I was summoned home. Mock glances, labels, stigma; I was now a drug addict. My stepmother wanted me out of the house. I lost it that day. I smashed the large TV screen.

 

How can you, a divorced 18 year old child, she’s the same age as Sarah, your daughter. You ungrateful **** my father shouted back. I fed you, and challenge you to go back. Live the crap life, the Stone Age life lived by your mother. She was an ignorant woman. No one would marry her. I should have sent you with her. This is my biggest regret. You disappoint me, you’ve shamed me.

 

We continued to yell at each other. My uncles intervened. I walked out. That night, I purged and binged.

4 weeks later, I was on a flight to Pakistan with Zoloft medicine in my bag and shaky eating plan. This was my first time to Pakistan so my youngest uncle accompanied me on the trip to ensure I didn’t get missing or something. We didn’t speak a word to each other on the flight.

The journey to Hunza was a long and seemingly never ending one. It took us two weeks or thereabout to get to Hunza. We had to trace Noor down. My uncle insisted we had to be certain to avoid an unnecessary wild goose chase. One day we heard about a woman named Noor; and we were suddenly on our way to Hunza valley without delay. It was the longest journey of my life. In Pakistan, I didn’t eat much. And for the first time in 2 years I was 10 days binge free.

 

 

To be Continued….