“Oh, oh, oh, Ozempic!” I hum to myself. I had heard the dreadfully upbeat television ad in my taxi an hour earlier and the demonic jingle would not leave me alone. The following morning I awoke with the jingle still echoing through the dark crevices of my subconscious. “Oh, oh, oh” I whisper as I make my way to the bathroom, turn on the light, and stifle a short scream, shocked at my own reflection. For the past three months I have been in active treatment for my eating disorder, and as far as eating disorders go, you simply can’t recover without the physical changes. I feel as though I am hauling around an extra thirty pounds. It’s probably closer to seven, but as far as perception goes, I am now fat.
I’ve had anorexia since 11. That’s fifteen whole years. It has become such an intricate part of my reality, that to imagine a life without it feels like no life at all. The disorder acts as both a safety blanket against life’s many sufferings, and an unforgiving ghost, nagging and persistent. Once upon a time I developed this illness in a childish attempt to self-cure, to self-regulate my psychic system, and restore the internal balance I had felt as an infant. But, most importantly, it momentarily stripped me of my low self-esteem, it propped me into a smaller body which believed thin equaled beauty, popularity, love.
I assume many of you have already heard of the newest fad: Ozempic, a drug created for those suffering from type 2 diabetes, now used as a weight loss miracle drug for anyone, not just the morbidly obese. The rise of Ozempic is not merely absurd, it is incredibly triggering. Along with celebrities advertising and glamorizing the drug on their shrinking bodies, talk of the drug is pushing those in recovery one step closer to relapse. Kim Kardashian losing 30 pounds in 2 weeks to fit in the Marilyn Monroe dress? Probably Ozempic. Even Elon Musk admitted to his weekly dose.
Because these drugs are now available to the wider public, having an obese/overweight body could one day be viewed as a conscious choice. But eating disorders (EDs), whatever their nature, are rarely just about food. These disordered eating habits often mask deeper, more pronounced emotional issues. Weight loss drugs do not address the psychological aspects of an ED. Instead, they are like putting a bandaid on a festering wound. They might stop the bleeding for a short while, but once removed, the wound looks all the worse for it. In fact, that is why drugs like Ozempic are created for long term maintenance use. Once stopped, the preexisting issues return: raised blood sugar, cravings, and the weight, and reportedly more weight at that.
What we now see more than ever is how our society prioritizes thinness over health. While we rely on the scale to tell us whether we are on track to immortality, we forget about the necessary nutrients needed to fight illness. When we focus solely on calories, we forget about the essential vitamins and minerals; the amino acids needed to build muscle, glucose for the brain, fats for energy, etc. For example, so many of us do not include enough fiber in our diets, or magnesium, or zinc. We have long transcended the calories in = calories out algorithm. We are human-beings, not machines. We are complex, we need to eat all the colors of the rainbow in order to be healthy. That said, being hungry is not a disease. We should learn to enjoy our food. We should be allowed to enjoy our food. “We have this idea in our culture that wanting to eat and enjoying eating is abnormal, wrong, or even some sort of mental illness. We have pathologized the desire for food, something we need to survive. It’s absurd.” (Abby Rose Morris) While food is fuel, it is not only fuel. It is also there to be relished.
It should not be forgotten, however, that Ozempic is highly beneficial (and necessary) for many. Initially it was put on the market to treat Type 2 diabetics. The semaglutide in Ozempic curbs hunger and makes food appear unappetizing. It does this by stimulating insulin release from the pancreas whenever necessary, and aids in lowering blood sugar levels. It also helps reduce the sugar produced by the liver and slows down food leaving the stomach. Unfortunately, because of the drug’s high demand, those who actually need it cannot get their dose. And so the cycle continues: because of the increasing demand there’s also an increasing rise in off-brand varieties. Invariably, because anyone and everyone can hypothetically buy variations of the same thing, even more pressure will be put on people to look a certain way.
I wonder how our beauty standards will change now that thinness can be easily obtained. After all, our aesthetic ideals are influenced by what goes on in society. Beauty standards have always changed and shifted based on food accessibility. The more difficult it is for a woman to meet society’s demands, the more in demand the ideal becomes. When food was scarce in the west and only the rich ate lavishly, healthy curves and a full frame were sought after. When food became more easily attainable, skeletal frames became all the rage. What now? Will there be an added branch in the web of eating disorders, right between bulimia and anorexia, called semaglutide abusers?
It is nearly impossible to escape the articles and speculations going on online about who is using Ozempic and who is not. Thankfully, you can mute anything you want (I suggest the following: Ozempic, Wegovy, semaglutide, weight-loss, etc.). If, like me, your algorithm now thinks you are interested in Ozempic because you watched a video on it once two weeks earlier, just go through your watch history and delete individual videos. It is more important than ever to shelter yourself from triggering videos and focus your attention on body-neutral influencers instead. Or just log off for a while. Remind yourself of how far you’ve come in your recovery process. Think of the bigger picture. Will this matter in 5 years? Is it worth risking your health for a drug and a beauty standard that both come with a whole laundry list of side effects? I say no.
I’m also in recovery, though from a different malady. But I recognize in your writing a fellow human getting through life a day at a time.
It’s the same for me, “The problem was but a symptom.” I wish you well, fellow traveler.