My alarm startles me at 7:00 am, and immediately the thoughts are killing me. Get up, it may be morning, but do not even think about breakfast. You don't deserve it and you're not allowed to go over 400 calories today. It kills me as I shiver my way out of bed wearing only a neon pink sports bra and black booty shorts. The mirror grabs me and the voices are unbearably loud now. Look at all that fat. It's disgusting. Go run, now. I wipe a tear from my face, gently touch my collar bone and hip bones, and diligently follow his orders. By this time, I have accepted the fact that ED (Eating Disorder) makes the decisions, not me. I barely finish my two miles without nearly passing out and am allowed a small apple and a glass of water. Twenty minutes pass before the sickening feeling of 100 calories sitting in my stomach pushes me over the edge. I use every bit of strength to find my way to the bathroom, sit in front of the toilet, and slide my two fingers down the back of my throat, forcing everything out until I am empty again. I turn to the mirror, frightened by what I have become- a terrible case of anorexia/bulimia. My background is so central to my identity that I believe I would be incomplete without it because my eating disorder had a huge impact on shaping the person I am today.
Studies show that eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. The thought of food alone is enough to make my stomach uneasy and my mind disgusted. Most people do not understand what it's like to cry through every meal and hate yourself more and more with every minuscule bite. People only truly know what it is like if they have been there, and I would not wish this on anyone, not even my worst enemy. It goes so much deeper than simply "not eating", in reality food is only the surface of the underlying problem. Anorexia is stepping on the scale six times a day and each time praying that I did not gain any weight. It is comparing myself to every single person I see, and lying to everyone including myself. It is an addiction though, the starving sensation gives me a high like no other and although it hurts, it does not hurt as much as eating and looking in the mirror. I did not even know I was addicted until I tried to stop. Anorexia is not a fashion statement, and once I was able to finally admit to myself that I was sick, treatment was the only option. Well other than dying.
Being 5'4" and 92 pounds lying on the hospital bed on the verge of dying was when I finally asked for help. May of 2012 was when I got sent to a residential site at the Renfrew Center for Eating Disorders in Philadelphia. Counselor's were available 24 hours, meal and snack times were set everyday and a variety of groups throughout the day took place there. I spent five weeks there working on myself, gaining weight, eating healthy and meeting tons of other girls just like me in regards to their eating disorders. To this day I still carry all of the coping skills and positive self talk I learned during that time.
Everyday tasks were still hard to do, such as shopping and going out to dinner. The thought of buying anything other then a size zero terrified me, and being watched by tons of unknown people while I try and eat in public was not very easy. I always put on my bravest face my my younger sister and cousins, and for my mom. 11 symptom free months went by before I began purging again. I kept it a secret for a while in hopes to live the rest of my life eating in front of others, and throwing it up behind the scenes. It took me a while to realize that this was not just a "slip-up" but I had full on relapsed back to my old ways. I started to lose hope thinking I would never live a normal life and that my eating disorder was going to kill me soon. At this point I did not have much to lose so I told my doctor.
November 2013 was when I was sent to the same treatment center but for only two weeks this time. After being discharged, I spent three months in a Renfrew Center outpatient program three nights a week, with the added struggle of balancing school and treatment. Getting through my eating disorder was by far the hardest thing I have ever done, but it is because of the pain and recovering that I can now handle pretty much anything. I realized that I will never be satisfied with my weight or appearance as long as I am stuck in this eating disorder. There are far greater things in life then striving for an unattainable goal. It hit me that one day I want to get married and have kids and actually live my life, not just survive. I have come a long way since this started and still have a long way to go, but the constant reminder I give myself is that nothing easy will be worthwhile, and nothing worthwhile will be easy.