Sancia Robinson has a story to tell, but the circumstances of how she came to share it are both distressing and all too common. At the age of 16, Robinson began watching what she ate. As her weight slipped away, it made her feel for the first time that she had assumed some level of autonomy in her life.

Of course, this is what makes eating disorders so insidious – the illusion of control. Ahead of the August season of What Is The Matter With Mary Jane?, co-written with Wendy Harmer, Robinson reflects on the 12-year struggle the production explores.

“I realised I had a problem…” she begins, and pauses. “I was on a diet and had a lot of positive reinforcement over it. I was never chubby, I was just a normal kid, but when I lost weight everyone was telling me I looked great. I had a lot of other problems in my life, but this was coming from the outside world, people telling me that it was a good thing. I just felt this incredible control – it was the first time I’d ever felt in control of anything in my entire life. And I had an anxiety disorder as well, so it was a part of that. It was a really dysfunctional way to deal with anxiety, but in the short term it seemed to work. And then honestly, I swear to God, it felt like something clicked in my brain. I suddenly knew that I was underweight and I really needed to stop this.”

Robinson laughs, which at first seems a strange response to such a serious malady. But her laughter does not come from anything inherently amusing in eating disorders; rather, with years of distance from her teenage self, the actions of young Sancia seem so preposterous to her.

“I also really just wanted to do simple things like start eating cake again! I remember being at my brother’s birthday and I went to eat some cake, and my arm just wouldn’t move. I wanted to tell my mum that something was happening to me, but I knew that she would then rob me of my dieting, my control, and I didn’t want to lose that. Sometimes it’s funny, looking back at ridiculous decisions you’ve made. But laughing at yourself can be a key to getting well.”

The play balances humour very carefully with its subject matter, not least of all because it has emerged as a touchstone text for young students who may themselves be suffering from eating disorders, and for those who engage, however simply or unthinkingly, in the body shaming of others.

“Around 25 per cent of young people present, but it may well be higher,” explains Robinson. “There’s a stigma around it. Eating disorders are one of those things that you don’t tell anyone, because surely you can fix it by yourself. You think, ‘I just need to find the right diet, I just need to lose that last bit of weight and all of this will just go away.’ The nature of the illness causes isolation as well. Your family will start seeing things that you don’t necessarily see yourself. They see you isolating, they see you not coping around the dinner table, changing your personality. It’s so hard for friends and family to have someone go through an eating disorder.

“For me, it was like having a virus in my brain telling me, ‘I don’t need help, I’m fine, they’ll just want to make you fat instead, don’t tell anyone.’ It’s still really shameful to come forward and say you have a mental illness and you don’t know what to do.”

Struggling with body image is by no means a demon of youth, with anorexia in nursing homes another face of the illness that is often forgotten, or euphemistically referred to as people ‘going off their food’. But it is in early life that the scars are most deeply inflicted, and as Robinson well understands, the emotional fallout is something that must be battled for life.

“Early intervention is key. For me, I will always be an addict around exercise, body image and food. I accept that, and one day at a time I live my life. I never take it for granted. I will always be conscious of what I’m eating. I have to keep to a food plan now. It’s easier for me that way. I saw a specialist and I can never diet again, but they told me exactly what I need to eat. That’s what I do every day. It was really frightening at first, not being able to choose. But I think I surrendered my right to choose by doing it so badly for so long.”

Robinson laughs again – at the memory of the girl she once was; at the virus in her head that will never move away; in relief that she is a survivor at all, and can share her struggle with others.

“That’s why places like The Butterfly Foundation are good,” she says. “If you feel there’s something wrong you can get in, get support. Families, too, go get the support, and get the language, because it’s not up to you to cure them. You didn’t cause it, you can’t control it. People want you to just stop doing it, but you can’t of, course. That’s the hardest thing for others – to lose that character from their lives.”

[Photo: Jodie Robinson]

If you or someone you know needs help with an eating disorder, contact The Butterfly Foundation at 1800 33 4673 or thebutterflyfoundation.org.au

What Is The Matter With Mary Jane? plays at Seymour Centre Tuesday August 4 – Saturday August 8.

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