For the past months I had been suffering in ways that no one will ever be capable of understanding. In medical terms I had been diagnosed with anorexia, but how could such a specific word describe something so complex? The words “how are you”, suddenly became the most difficult question I had ever be asked, and I never had the appropriate answer. Is it because I myself did not even fully understand what was wrong ? My mind had brainwashed me if that is even capable of making sense. Evil voices reminded me of every single one of my flaws and they would haunt me everywhere I went. The voices in my head lead me into another world, a world consumed by darkness and evil. I felt like I was in a nightmare, except in this nightmare it was different, the fear was to live, not to die. There was a point I was so scared of what would come next that I would fear living on a day to day basis and what type of life is that ? At first when this all began of course I was denying that anything at all was wrong and I thought to myself that I could handle it, Those little voices that would repeat words to me every second of my day and even into my sleep, those thoughts were impossible to control I was wrong I had no control over this disease anymore. The voices would haunt me day after day and they would constantly keep me going at this obsession of counting calories and forcing myself into thinking that hunger was just an emotion and that no harm could be caused by starvation.This disease had taken control of my life in every way it could. My relationships were damaged, but this little voice in my head would tell me that they were just “jealous of my willpower”. When I looked at food I immediately thought of it as being my worst enemy and that if I gave in it would take days to forgive myself for being so weak. It was an obsession with looking at myself in the mirror and cheating my parents into thinking I ate. Instead of pushing me down the thought of being a “fatass” were giving me the strength to continue on the addiction of reaching what was my opinion of perfection. My parents were quick to notice that something was wrong by the way my attitude and lifestyle had so drastically changed. Everyone around me begged me to get help. “ This isn’t normal”, they would say over and over in a way, which made it seem as if I didn’t already know. I would try and get better for my family.


If I feared anything at this point, it was recovery. I was obsessed with watching documentaries and looking at photos of perfect girls and I would think to myself that all my hard work and determination was about to go to waste. There were certain rules that I lived by I would call them the “ Thin Commandments” that I thought I would have to give up if I was admitted into a rehab clinic. Later that week, I found myself sitting on a couch of a “professional “, the one who was supposedly going to make me and my life normal again. I was so scared. I remember my eyes just wandering around that plane white waiting room searching for something that could possibly distract me, Nothing would catch my attention. I just wanted to get out of there and lock myself in my room so I could go to sleep and not have to think about anything. “Why were they taking so long?” I thought, but instantly I knew the answer was that it would take days, to list all of my imperfections.

As I continued to stare at the room my dad and the doctor were in, I finally saw the door open. “Alexa come in here “, she said as I thought “ here it goes”. As I walked as slow as I possibly could, dreading the fact that I was going to have to listen to a lady who knows hardly anything about me tell me what was wrong with me, I finally reached her room and knew I would just have to suck it up. There was a certain silence when I walked in and my dad stepped out; she asked me to “take a seat”. I knew that this would be a long conversation. The questions she would ask just started flooding my mind and it was difficult to think. As I heard myself answering questions like “ on a scale of 1-10 how scared are you of gaining weight even if it is just 1 pound” and I would answer 10, I knew that something was wrong me. The doctor would not respond to me, so I was being confused on whether my answers were not so bad and I wasn’t as crazy as I thought I was or if it was just some sort of game she was playing.

When what I would call the “interview” was over she just told me “, It was great meeting you Alexa have a lovely day” I was happy. I thought to myself she never said “see you soon” so did that mean I would never have to come again?. After a short drive home I found myself being called into the living room where I met my whole family. I saw my father’s mouth open but nothing was coming out. Then it all came out, “ you need help Alexa, you need immediate help and I am admitting you no matter what”. There was nothing else I could say.That would be that. This experience changed my life forever, I would say I have been “recovered” for around 8 months now. The journey does not get any easier at all if anything it gets more difficult. Every day I tell myself how much I need to value myself and my life and not take it for granted or harm it. I know that if it was not for my parents, friends and loved ones I would not be here right now.