Originally posted on: One Life Babe

Looking back at how it all started is interesting because it all seemed so harmless, I viewed it as a positive thing in my life. We all have the understanding that eating right and working out is a good thing for us…right? Is there really too much of a good thing when it comes to our physical well-being? YES, as I would later on discover.

This is hard for me to begin because I myself don’t know when I transitioned across that line. That very fine line of being fit and eating right, to what some people call ‘Orthorexia.’ That line that starts as eating only ‘clean’ foods to counting every calorie…even if it’s a piece of gum. That line of slowly adding just a little more exercise to your daily routine that turns into 16 miles a day and three hours of lifting. That line that becomes blurred when we want to be on a new level for our sport, or feel good in what we wear, and like how we look.

I get so mad at myself sometimes for not seeing it. I truly look back six months ago and want to scream at myself. “MERE WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?” The honest answer; I had no emotions towards it and saw nothing wrong. I was only becoming healthier and working on myself. And anyone who thought differently was against me. I saw it as those people can’t understand that all I am doing is “bettering” myself. This is the mentality that comes into play with most eating disorders. It’s defensive, stand-offish, and isolated. Which makes helping someone about ten times harder. Think about when someone ever critiques you on something you think that you are great at. You may listen, but in the back of your head when someone is giving you advice you are twirling it up and throwing it in the trash.

Anyway, at the time I was a good soccer player, who was above average fit, and was exactly how I should be. I always had my confidence from my sport, until something snapped. Perhaps it was something completely unrelated to soccer. It could have been the stress in life just building from certain areas or my refusing to address what was actually happening. I knew one thing, no one was going to hear or see that I was stressed and for once in my life, scared. I couldn’t show that to the people I loved who knew me for being the happy, fun loving girl.

This was the first problem, setting unreal expectations for myself. I had always loved being a listener for my friends and family. I didn’t want to be the one bringing them my own issues or thoughts. So became the bottomless “mimosa” of stress. (The type of mimosa with no champagne and all orange juice.) So came my next question..how would I work through that stress?

I chose what I was good at…working out. After every session in the weight room, or on the treadmill, the world seemed calm again. Until the issues would come again later that day. Another workout would come to bring back a feeling of peace. I needed more control on my life that seemed to be uncontrollable. So began controlling my food intake to a perfect-t. I couldn’t go past a certain number of calories that I would count on my calculator. I had to have this many calories by this time, and if I went over…well another workout was added. Pre-game Panera team meals were salads with dressing on the side, or eat everything but the bread from my sandwich. A menu that had calories listed, the lowest calorie option no doubt. Nights out drinking and partying faded away because of too many calories and not enough time for workouts. With that realization drinking became no longer enjoyable. Calculating, and feeling those thoughts creep in of sadness while at the same time trying to put on a face of pure happiness so no one questioned me.

For the old Mere this was a complete 180. Old Mere had trash cans to drink (Slushy, Redbull, some kind of alcohol, and lord knows what else), late night pizza, and broke it down on the dance floor with her girls. So a couple months go by and I had lost some weight and was becoming more defined. I felt good, and people were giving me lots of compliments. I was known for being the fitness girl and finally my body started to show that in my eyes. I saw not going out as a great thing for me, along with faster mile times, and clean meals. Oh yeah, and I forgot to mention one thing, I was playing Division One College Soccer. It was spring semester, our “off-season.” Which really isn’t an off season as it consists of two-a-days with weights and practice. I had even picked up a job working at a fitness club. Who would have figured? In my eyes I was making great changes…and this was just the beginning.

This is Part 2 of What No One Tells You When You Sign Up For An Eating Disorder. If you missed Part 1 read it here!

When there’s opportunities to become fitter, better at your sport, and eat well, why would you not take them? My name is Meredith Tunney and I am originally from Chicago but played Division 1 soccer at The College Of Charleston in South Carolina. Growing up life was work hard, play hard. I loved every minute of training, practices, games of course, and being with my teammates. I also loved to put in the work off the field. Something about you breaking your own beep test record, outrunning a girl for a 50/50 ball, or squatting for a PR, sends adrenaline through my body. Life went from all of this coming natural and not to mention eating anything I wanted when I wanted to, to a whole new ball game. A game I was unprepared for, because in reality this was a game that I would lose. I was the type of girl who had life balanced with athletics, school, and social life. But what I didn’t realize was that I cooped with stress in a way that would deteriorate my health. The thought process became healthy, to healthier, and fit, to fittest. Train and ignore your stressors. Then suddenly, I had hit rock bottom. But my favorite quote goes, “Life is 10% what happens to us, and 90% how we react to it”. Which leads to what I thought would be the most incredible senior season ever, to the time that I, Mere Tunney took on an eating disorder. Or as some may see it, the female athlete triad. A topic that few talk about, but exists with many female athletes.

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