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Living with anorexia
True life: Each day was a battle between my mind and my body.
I used to be anorexic. I wish it wasn't true, but it is. I would describe my past anorexia as a bratty little sister called “Ana”, who never stopped teasing me or calling me ugly and fat. I think it takes a big shift in a person's life for that person to become anorexic. For me, it was the rejection of a parent. I felt that it was my fault that I did not get the love and affection that I sought, and I somehow reasoned that if I was prettier or thinner I would get that nod of approval.
My self-confidence hit rock-bottom and my weight did too not so long after. My illness made me feel a strong sense of self loathing, where every ounce of fat around my legs and arms felt like a sharp thorn. I would look in the mirror and instead of seeing myself, I saw a fat and meaningless creature staring back. I felt suicidal and non-worthy and did not see the need to continue living. I wanted to disappear into thin air, so I starved myself to get closer to my goal of not filling any physical space. I could no longer recognise myself; the energetic and lively girl that I was before slowly degraded into a pale and exhausted phantom. Whenever my friends asked if I wanted to come over for a movie night or party, I said no from the fear of giving in to temptation of food and drink. I shut myself off from life.
When you have anorexia, you have a chronic fear of putting on weight. It is a strong omnipresent and animalistic fear, and it was eating me from the inside. Whenever people asked how I was, I automatically put on a robotic mask and answered “I'm good!” when I would rather scream out “I don't want to live! I can't fight anymore!” Each day was a battle between my mind and my body. My body screamed desperately for food, while my mind was a concrete box of self deprivation that refused to fall for “weakness”. I felt tired all the time and was woozy 3-4 times a day, while my mind was consumed by the calories that I was not allowed to intake. Every time I put food in my mouth I felt like I was betraying myself and my “rightish” belief. Each mouthful felt like a slap.
My mother became increasingly worried as she witnessed how big my clothes had became on me, however whenever she raised this issue with me, I would snap back at her. I was in denial and said it was okay for me to have an apple for breakfast; I was just being “healthy”. What I left out was that I felt like a failure, so I measured my success according to how little I weighed.
The thinner I got, the more successful I felt. I made out my restricted diet as a holy crusade, trying to convince myself that it was all to become healthier. In fact, it was doing the exact opposite. I developed anaemia, my nails became brittle and my periods stopped. The worst thing though, was that the glisten in my eyes was gone. A fire within me was extinguished and all that was left was the empty body of a small boy. My friends commented on my weight loss and I brushed it off with a lie that I was stressed about exams. After this, I hid my tiny frame in baggy clothes to avoid attracting attention to myself.
Read Part Two: Recovery
By: Anonymous
Bodywhys is an organisation that provides information, support and advice to those with eating disorders and their families.
Contact Bodywhys on:
Helpline: 1890 200 444
Admin Tel: 01 2834963
Email support: alex@bodywhys.ie
This article is part of the SpunOut.ie true life stories section – a space for young people to share their experiences of tough times and encourage others to seek help. This story is just one person's experience and it may be different for you. Remember that no matter what you are going through, there is help and support available. See the Find help section for more information: http://www.spunout.ie/help/
