My eating disorder began in high school from these stems. It manifested and I got stress fractures and osteoporosis from overexercising and not eating right. I didn't know what was going on, I just knew I was terrified of food and wanted to disappear. It seemed to subside before college began. Then the summer before my sophomore year E.D, or shall I say "Ana" reappeared. She took everything from me in every sense of the word. I looked at the mirror one day and thought that my stomach was a little "chubby". I went to the scale in my house and weighed myself on my own for the first time. It was then when I decided that I needed to lose a little bit of weight. I got back to college(The School of The Art Institute of Chicago)and bought a scale. I began to exercise and started to eat less. I began counting calories since I had a hard time losing weight. I found pro-ana websites and joined one community of girls. I was convinced these girls were my friends when really I was isolating from my true friends who were wondering why I was hanging out with them less. I began to exercise again in a few different forms. It got out of control and I would faint and wake up alone or with people concerned around me. I couldn't stop myself. I was a woman possessed and enslaved. My eating disorder was hungry to destroy me but I remained the starver. I would cry all the time when I had to eat.
Since I go to art school, I would draw the little bits of food in my journal that I would eat and fantasize about how badly I wanted it. The school year began and this routine continued daily and only got worse. I started skipping class to exercise and I did anything to lose weight whether it be jumping, constantly moving my legs in class, or walking the longest way to places as fast as I could. I took ice baths to lose the littlest bit of weight. I could no longer open doors. I would have to run behind someone who was pushing it. My life was miserable and it revolved around the scale. I bought two just in case one was off. I got rid of them both and one night in hopes of stopping this endless cycle, but I bought one the next day. I couldn't lift my blankets on my bed so I slept on top of them instead. I was always cold and the size of my clothes got smaller and smaller because I wanted to disappear and be small like a child again. Come halloween, I wore a kids bumblebee costume. At this point I couldn't remember things well or think clearly either. I lost my period since the summer. My heart would skip beats and my veins hurt too. My legs felt tingly and weak like ripped seaweed. Clearly I couldn't go back in time and change everything.
Moreover, there was this painting class I was in. We made painted books. Mine was about these macaroni and cheese bunnies who were being boiled alive and two escaped. The rest died. Little did I know that even my art in school was about food. One day my teacher from that class confronted me a morning that I fainted and came late to class. She said that she could tell what was wrong and that I wasn't myself anymore. I knew that. I couldn't escape though. It was torturous. Every calorie was counted. Every calorie lost from exercising was calculated, and every single one gained was counted. Anyways, she told me about this girl that she knew who had the same problem as me, but she was in recovery. She gave me her e-mail and I met her for tea about a week later. She explained what an eating disorder was and things began to make a little sense. Before we parted ways, she gave me phone numbers to two outpatient treatment centers. I took the little piece of paper and thanked her and went back to my dorm. I crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor thinking it was stupid and that I wouldn't need it anymore.
Then one day about a month or two later I had a huge mental breakdown. I couldn't draw or paint anymore. I was in my kitchen and I took the glass of water and spilt it once and broke the glass on my second try on my way over to my artwork. On my third try I got a new glass of water over there. I picked up the paint brush and began to paint...but I couldn't. My hands and arms were experiencing usual tremors at this point. My arm kept shaking and I couldn't handle it. My vision was crummy and blurred and so I tried to draw. I am a perfectionist like many of us here...but I could only make squiggles. I started bawling because not only did I lose everything that mattered to me which included my friends except for two, my enjoyment of life, my personality, and my contact with anyone, but I lost my one talent that I never thought I could lose. I took it from myself. No, my eating disorder did. I then scavenged for that little piece of paper and called the number. I came to the Intensive outpatient program and met the kindest woman ever. She was beautiful too. She listened to what I had to say. No one ever listened to what deep things mattered to me. This was probably because I didn't trust any one.
The next week she introduced me to my therapist who was such a caring and for lack of a better phrase, beautiful person as well. Two weeks in to the program I tried to eat more but I began to purge the food because it hurt so much to eat. I told my therapist about all my physical side effects that I was experiencing. Her and another therapist made me go to the hospital...a.k.a eating disorders unit of the psych ward. I was so angry but also relieved that this might be put to a stop. I had so many awful experiences there-peeing in cups, getting blood drawn daily, being treated like a child, not being trusted, bathroom breaks with someone checking after wards in case you purged, undressing in front of the nurses in some hospital room upon entry, being sent to the quiet room because I was in so much pain because of the physical pain of eating, put on meds to help me eat and sedate me, and so on. I had 34 heart beats per minute with skipping beats(it was really painful, it stunk) which means I had bradycardia(low heart beat. Its usually supposed to be above 60). My electrolytes were completely off as well. but once I got out I was sent to residential treatment. I only stayed there for three months because my insurance cut out. Since then my journey has greatly improved in so many ways.
I went to and am still living at a transitional living program in Chicago, IL. Its like residential without staff overnight. Except in this setting we have more freedom and we can make our own meals. We attend groups and individual sessions. We also get weighed every week instead of every day. I have been living here for almost a year and a half and I went from being crazed to being amazed with my life. I am in school, I have solid friends, I am gradually getting off exercise restriction, and I am not afraid of foods even though I am afraid of being full. I also just got an internship to be an art teacher! Above all, I can be trusted to live my life more than I ever have been before. I accept myself so much more and I have gained an authentic sense of self. Its so much better than the self hate messages that I absorbed and took to heart.
This is my story. I told this story because all of our stories are different. I told this story because this is how cruel anorexia was to me. With so much work and effort day by day, I have made my life for myself and am still working on getting it back from this awful disease. I often blame myself for getting sick, but this never was my fault and was never yours either. Moreover, I have never been happier!! I am tempted and do skip eating food every now and then, but I keep trying and take one day at a time. I am scared of relapsing, but I am honest with myself and my treatment team. It helps me slip but not fall. This blog is going to be a compilation of pro-recovery photos and inspirational quotes with tid bits of my own comments every now and then. This would also include other people's submitted entries. I want to counter act my pro-ana days since I wasn't living. I was just existing. This is for those who are choosing and fighting to live.
feel free to send me anonymous stories or experiences, inspirational quotes, or pro-recovery photos or links relating to eating disorder pro-recovery to leidylikelady@gmail.com
much love,
Leidy
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