Is it time to call time on anorexia memoirs

A personal and possibly controversial plea

There is a kind of book that some people unkindly call “misery-memoirs”; usually some form of illness or adversity in childhood. Where anorexia is concerned, a lot of books have been written by former or current sufferers. They were once thought useful to inform clinicians what the sufferer experience of anorexia is like.

We have been asked to read a lot of these memoirs, some unpublished, some self-published and some taken on by a publisher who invites us to endorse them. They are much the same. They take the form, as follows;

  • Person is unhappy and in some cases feels wrong in their body.
  • Person loses weight and becomes unable to start eating normally
  • Person begins acting psychotically. One describes sneaking down to the laundry to drink water that had accumulated in a tumble dryer so that their weight will appear higher; one won’t smell food in case he absorbs calories through his nose. One falls off their bike and fractures their hip but escapes from the emergency room to complete their ride in case they gain an ounce of fat. One decides to walk the Camino Trail at a BMI that might kill her, to prove to people that she is fine at the weight she is. One man has written a personal account riddled with obscenities (wash your mouth out, hun) Most run silly distances on empty. To top it off, all speak of a bully, a voice that orders them about and which cannot be challenged.  

There is no doubt that people with anorexia crave to write books about themselves. With some exceptions, few of these books give time to the recovery process; rather they dig deep into descriptions of suffering. I have asked why this is so but have had no answer.  When we are offered yet another anorexi-ography, we read it in case there is something useful, but are mostly disappointed and, also to some extent troubled and  traumatised by the familiar madness revealed in the pages.

This sounds as if I am unsympathetic; I’m not. There is evidence that accounts of anorexia traumatise health professionals.  Anorexia is a terrible psychosis where the therapist is destined to engage in a dance with someone whose illness thwarts change and where I am always at risk of becoming the enemy with one word or gesture out of place.  

There are some superb personal accounts that are valuable for one reason or another.  With one recent exception (Hadley Freeman: Good Girls) there is no need to have any more memoirs to add to experience or add anything useful to an existing bibliography written by people who have fought their way to recovery with focus on that. I can tell always when people claim to be better but they are not. They have just morphed into marathon runners or clean eaters. Reading a great book about recovery (see The Reading Cure by Laura Freeman or Life Without Ed by Jenni Schaefer) I am thus edged from trauma into hope.

Many people with anorexia will recover or partly so with or without psychotherapy. When they reach the spot where the mania softens, this is the time when they start thinking about writing a book about themselves. Is this just another manifestation of the narcissistic core of anorexia?  I would say – no more please – unless you want a memoir for your eyes only. Perhaps start living the life that anorexia stole from you and stop thinking about the past.  We have enough great books (see our website book list) and do not need ANY more.

As someone who once had anorexia (and now do not) I never had the need to write about myself. Perhaps that’s the healthiest place to be.