The Brown & White

A group of young women volunteered to educate students about eating disorders by retelling their personal battles with bulimia, anorexia and compulsive overeating Monday in Packard Auditorium.

According to the National Mental Health Information Center's Web site, "research shows that more than 90 percent of those who have eating disorders are women between the ages of 12 and 25," thus directly affecting college campuses.

Indeed, Valerie Swercheck's struggle with compulsive overeating began at a young age, as in most cases, and continued into her adult life. The College of New Jersey graduate does not remember exactly when it all started, but she remembers the moment she became aware of how others viewed her.

"I had been eating and loving food all my life," she said, attributing this to her Italian heritage, in which "food is central to life."

Proud of being Italian, she wore a shirt that read "Italian princess" to school one day. When she got on the school bus, a boy asked her, "Why are you wearing that shirt? Princesses aren't fat."

From then on, she developed a love/hate relationship with food, hiding it or stealing it because she felt so powerless to change her behavior.

Swercheck listed the reasons behind her addiction to food, from rebelling against her father and "preppy" students to enjoying her status as "one of the boys," but ultimately she said, "being overweight was and still is my excuse for failure."

What if she lost all the weight and still did not get the part in the play she auditioned for? she asked. She could always blame it on the weight.

"Food is still my coping mechanism of choice," she admitted. "I'm better, not cured."

Dana Pirollo told a different story.

For the past 10 years, she has been battling bulimia. She said she lived a normal life until high school, where the notion of wearing uniforms heightened everyone's awareness of their bodies.

Her group of friends would take turns vomiting in the school bathrooms, and each would eat only a bag of skittles a day.

Then, as a freshman at Kutztown University, Pirollo was raped. To cope, she started using laxatives and recommenced her routine of bingeing and purging.

Things did not get better. She found herself living in her car and doing cocaine every day for one year after she dropped out of school and was kicked out of her house.

"It was a constant beat down on my body," she said.

During this time, she was engaged, but when her fiancé broke up with her, she ended up in the ER after she proceeded to ingest 25 sleeping pills.

Pirollo realized she needed help, so she called her friends and tried to start over by checking herself in to the Renfrew Center, an eating disorder treatment facility in Philadelphia, in July.

"It's a day-to-day struggle," she said. "It's necessary to understand that if you need help, it's up to you to get it."

A former Lehigh student related her struggle with food while at college. Marjan Maghbouleh, '08, said it all began the summer of her freshman year, but senior year was her lowest point.

She explained that people with eating disorders can easily be spotted as a result of their weird food combinations. For example, she would microwave baby carrots with cottage cheese and then douse them with mustard.

Her constant awareness of her body transformed her behavior toward others.

"I was a lot more sensitive," she said.

Maghbouleh summed up the experience as being in a dark place in which "you feel like you're not human anymore."

And for some, no longer feeling alive becomes a reality.

Brittany Lewis, '10, could do pirouettes most of her childhood, but what she could not do was control her eating disorder.

Lewis' insecurities began when she realized how different she was from her family. Her parents had adopted her when she was only a year-and a-half old. Her parents are African-American. She is caucasian.

"I never felt part of the family," she confessed.

She began dancing ballet like most little girls, but her talent got her into a more prestigious, albeit more rigorous, dance school around middle school. At this time, Lewis said she constantly competed against other dancers. Meanwhile, in school, her grades were dropping.

So, she attempted suicide. She was 12.

Then, what seemed like a blessing became a curse. She found her group of friends, dubbed the "fab five," but life was far from fabulous for the young ballerinas. All of them formed a secret pact to be on a constant diet: anorexia.

Years later, one by one, the girls committed suicide, all except Lewis.

"And then there was one," Lewis said. "An eating disorder can make you lose all hope in life to make you want to commit suicide."

"I'm still here and still fighting," she added. "Some days I win the battle, and other days I lose."

Aaron Sterba, staff counselor, encouraged students to visit Counseling Services if they had any food-related problems.

He also advised students to help their friends by pulling them aside and talking to them in private without accusing them, but, instead, expressing sincere concern.

Associate Professor of sociology Jackie Krasas noted that while eating disorders have gained momentum, their prevalence should never become the norm.

Lambda Theta Alpha sorority and the Women's Center co-sponsored the event, titled "Reflections: The truth behind the mask of eating disorders."