This is a slogan or motto some people use when admonishing individuals with eating disorders to stop obsessing about their weight on the scale.
It's a play on words, you see. People like to weigh themselves on bathroom scales. Fish also have scales. Leave scales to the fish is the message here.
I weighed myself a lot during my high school years because I was a wrestler. I always wanted to wrestle in a weight class that was below my natural weight thinking I would have a competitive advantage that way. So, I had to be rather conscientious about my weight at all times. If I wasn't vigilant about keeping my weight in check I might not be able to compete in my desired weight class.
When I was a wrestler I had a food scale I used occasionally. I used it on Thanksgiving day when I was a senior to measure out a certain number of ounces of turkey. I think I used the scale to measure an ounce of cereal occasionally but I usually just measured cereal with a measuring cup.
I remember how a lot of wrestlers knew how much certain foods and liquids weighed. Sometimes the night before a tournament all one is concerned about is the actual weight of the food. Most of us knew a carton of milk was 8 oz. I knew consuming a carton of milk was going to cause a half pound weight increase. A 2 oz. candy bar wasn't going to add much weight if all you cared about was making weight the next morning. It was kind of a game. If I am a pound under my weight I can probably have two pounds of food and/or liquid because I'll usually lose a pound overnight while sleeping. I think some wrestlers call this drift weight. So, even if eating two pounds of food puts my weight a pound over my competitive weight I'll probably still make weight the next day. Does this make sense? In the real world you'd care about the calories but when you're just concerned about making weight the next day all you need to worry about is the actual weight of the food. Liquid, of course, adds up fast. It's easy to consume 16 oz. (a pound) of liquid.
I struggled keeping my weight down during my sophomore season. But, I somehow managed to be about 3 1/2 pounds under weight the night before the sectional tournament. What should I eat or drink? That was the question. Gary, an upperclassman, suggested I have a six-pack of Pepsi and nothing else. Well, I was thirsty and I probably could have had that much liquid and still made weight. But, I decided against his suggestion and had some food and liquid keeping in mind the number of ounces I thought I could consume safely and still make weight the next day.
When I was having trouble eating as an adult I didn't really weigh myself much at all. I didn't really need a scale to tell me things were going badly. My cheekbones sticking out like daggers showed how ill I was. The doctors and therapists I saw weighed me. At one point I weighed almost what I had back in junior high. Making weight for wrestling felt like an accomplishment. Starving down to a certain weight didn't feel like an accomplishment.
When I was in treatment for an eating disorder many years after my wrestling days the nurses weighed us three times a week as I recall. Now, it was the doctors and nurses who seemed obsessed with the number on the scale. They usually wanted patients to restore (gain) weight. If a patient failed to gain weight then he or she might be placed on 24-hour surveillance. Perhaps the patient had been exercising in his room when he was supposed to have been sleeping.
We patients always had to step on the scale backward as I recall. At any rate, we weren't allowed to see our weight while in treatment. You knew you were gaining weight but not how much. The treatment team didn't want patients concerned about their weight. They wanted patients focused on recovery. They wanted patients focused on their thoughts and feelings and how it was affecting their behavior.
A social worker named Sam (not his real name) used to tell us, "Eating disorders are not about food, weight, or pant size."
Eating disorders are a maladaptive method of coping with emotional distress.
That's what Sam told us although not everyone was buying it.
One day during group therapy with Sam, Dr. A stuck his head in the room and Sam said, "Dr. A, we were just discussing how eating disorders are all about food, weight, and pant size."
Without missing a beat Dr. A replied, "Yes, and about how you look in the mirror."
Funny guys, huh?
When I first met Dr. A he asked me what my ideal body would look like. He asked me to draw him a picture and show him the next day. I drew a stick figure. Ha ha. No, I'm just kidding. I drew a bodybuilder. Does that surprise you? I think a lot of guys like the look of wide shoulders and back tapering down to a narrow waist.
Of course, modern day bodybuilders look like cartoon characters with their oversized muscles. But, the bodybuilders of the 70s and 80s looked rather fit and athletic.
Some patients I met in the day treatment program claimed that the number they saw on the bathroom scale each morning would determine how they felt that day. The number would determine if they felt happy or sad, confident or inadequate.
Sam thought this notion was awfully silly. How could a number on a scale have so much power? He suggested that they should just call him each morning and he'd tell them how to feel that day. He said that would make about as much sense.
Several years ago I got a visit at my apartment from my older sister and my young niece. My niece being a curious young lady opened my refrigerator. As I recall the refrigerator was empty which I imagine was kind of a shock for her. I think her eyes went wide and she kind of laughed. I think my older sister just smiled too because she knew I was probably always going to struggle with eating. She didn't seem that surprised as I recall.
I did have some chocolate chip cookies in the apartment so my niece ate some of those which made me happy. I think that incident may have been just prior to me going back to the hospital. All I had in the apartment was cookies because that's basically what I was living on.
It's embarrassing having an eating disorder sometimes. How do you explain having an empty refrigerator and bare cupboards to normal functioning adults?
The number on the scale has been a pain at times. It seems like a big joke sometimes, like a bizarre twist of fate. When I was a wrestler I had to worry constantly about keeping my weight low. I was checking the scale all the time at home and in the locker room to see how much I was over my weight.
Fast forward years later. I am seeing a therapist on a weekly basis and she weighs me each time we meet. She seems concerned if I lose even a little weight. I have to worry each week about my weight being HEAVY enough. If I don't maintain a certain percentage of my target weight I'll have to return to the hospital for treatment.
Some people might find the way that treatment is carried out on an eating disorder unit to be a bit peculiar. Patients are told not to focus on weight or food. In fact, you don't get to see your weight when weighed and are not allowed to discuss food or calories. And yet, patients are weighed on a regular basis and their days are structured around eating a certain amount of food that they have no control over.
Am I suggesting that treatment centers actually exacerbate the problems faced by patients? No. It's kind of a conundrum. Of course treatment programs must devise ways of encouraging eating and weight gain and yet the meticulous measuring of patients' body weight and calories consumed seems at odds with telling those same patients that eating disorders have nothing to do with food or weight.
On the eating disorder unit I remember being awakened three times a week to be weighed before breakfast. I had to put on a hospital gown and plod down to the room where the scale was kept. I'd see all the other sleepy patients in their gowns waiting to be weighed as well.
Some patients have a magic number they believe they'll be happy at. But, when they reach that weight they find they're still not happy. I knew a girl once who told me she thought a certain treatment facility had really helped her. She said they had set her target weight at 117. She told me she had no desire to maintain that weight but thought she might be happy with 110. Granted, 110 lbs. was significantly higher than she'd been before treatment and yet I still found it amusing that she was already planning to lose weight when she discharged from treatment. I suppose I could have been a smart-ass and asked her why seven pounds was going to make a difference and how she planned to lose those seven pounds and then stop at 110 lbs. and maintain it.
This is the same girl who on another occasion refused to go to day treatment after being discharged because she claimed she weighed 130. She was taken back to inpatient in handcuffs. I wonder if she really weighed 130 or if she weighed something like 125 and simply "rounded up" thinking there wasn't much difference between 125 and 130. Regardless, she was not happy with the weight that inpatient had left her at.
I wasn't too happy the first time I left treatment. I was told my target weight had originally been lower and then they raised it claiming my body "wanted" to be at a higher weight. But, when I discharged I weighed even more than the new target weight they'd decided on even though I'm fairly certain they claim they never let someone get beyond target weight.
"Why the hell did they raise my target weight?" I asked Sam.
"Well, that's where your body is comfortable at," he said.
I wasn't comfortable physically or emotionally so I wasn't sure exactly just what the hell sort of nonsense was coming out of his mouth. Hell yes, I planned to lose some weight when I got out of that hospital.
But, during other times in treatment the weight on the scale bothered me less. Even though they'd let me go over target weight by quite a bit again they claimed there were extenuating circumstances. Whatever. It just wasn't worth getting worked up over.
I suppose people being concerned about the number on the bathroom scale is culturally normative. Even as kids we weigh ourselves out of curiosity noticing how we grow and gain weight each year. When an adult no longer weighs what he or she did in high school or college it can be discouraging. But, most people don't decide to starve themselves because they're overly distressed about it.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with scales. They can be a valuable tool. A large weight gain may signal a problem like edema for example. Or, if someone has suffered a major health crisis and lost weight then the scale can help determine if someone is considered clinically malnourished and in need of extra care.
Currently my bathroom scale is gathering dust which is a good thing I suppose. I hope I don't have to use it again for a while.
Leave Scales to the Fish
To scared to eat your favorite dish
You won't give yourself permission
Afraid something might go amiss
Even though it sounds delicious
Your so thin that you might vanish
You can't live in such condition
I wonder why you diminish
The gifts you have been given
Your body you must learn to nourish
Deep down you have the volition
Perhaps then you can truly flourish
And then find your true ambition
Your life you must learn to cherish
To you I make this petition
Stop feeling the need to punish
Life is not a competition
You live your life with precision
But, the pain triumphs over bliss
Dear one, make a new decision
The scale's power you must dismiss
For you I have a single wish
Make loving yourself your mission
Dearest one, leave scales to the fish
Dear soul, this is my benediction
