Since the age of 8 I struggled with the way I looked. I was bullied for how I dressed, the way I did my hair, and how my body looked in a dance costume. I spent years hating myself. Wondering why I didn't fit in. Was I fat? Was I annoying? Was I not worthy enough to be alive? It was a constant stream of penetrating thoughts that swallowed me whole. I eventually just shut down. I didn't talk to anyone. I locked myself in my room. I cried going to dance. I cried going to school in the morning. Every waking minute I feared that someone would judge me for being me and I just wanted to disappear into a ball of nothing. I searched for answers to ways of not hating myself until I was offered a hand. I turned to food constantly bingeing and purging because I thought food would cure my problems but only after I felt guilty and needed to rid myself of the poison I had put in me( food). My dad noticed how I cried when I looked at myself in the mirror. How I locked myself away from society and how I became a vigorous bulimic he offered me an escape. He started to take me to the gym, to help me eat healthier, to take me to participate in social situations. He gave me a helping hand, that quickly turned evil. Little did he know he has unleashed the beast named Ana. Who almost took my life.
One late summer afternoon I made the decision to only eat healthy. Within one week I was down 3lbs. That wasn't good enough. I ate less the next week and was then down a total of 10. It wasn't good enough either. This viscous restriction cycle continued till I went to a weight of 140lbs to 108lbs in one month. I was hospitalized because my heart was giving up but that wasn't enough to stop me. I thought I was fine. I was getting attention. The smaller I got the better I felt. I finally had a sense of control in my life. I wasn't going to let it go. Towards the end of sophomore year I was participating in a dance show and my doctor didn't want to let me perform. I was at a shockingly low 82lbs for a 5ft. 3 16 year old girl. I was dying, but Ana didn't care. I fought to perform, willing myself through the pain and again of the room spinning around me. The cold air penetrating into my frail bones. I passed out a total of 3 times that week. But no matter how bad it got I still felt good. I was losing weight, so Didn't that make a better person? I was achieving what most teenage girls dream of, a miracle weight loss.
As the school year ended people were constantly voicing there concerns, from friends to teachers. All wanted me to get help. I went on a 2 1/2 month vacation to see if that would help me take my mind of this mental disease and I only came back 10lbs less and having thrown myself into the depths of my bulimia once again. It was only on the plane ride home I realized I needed help. The next week I was on a plane to a treatment center where I fought hard for over 6 months to get over this disease. I came back 30lbs heavier and 1000000x happier.
If I was to give advice to someone going through this I would say to NOT KEEP IT A SECRET!!! The strength of an Eating disorder comes from secrecy! Reach out for help! Tell a friend! Tell a parent! At least if one person knows the burden isn't all sitting on your shoulders! This is a serious disease, it almost took my life several times. Eating disorders have THE HIGHEST MORTALITY RATE OF ALL MENTAL ILLNESSES. They are not just an innocent diet. They are a illness. They affect millions of people of each year, and no time is a better time then now to get help
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