Dying to be Thin: My Struggle With Eating Disorders

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Dying to be Thin: My Struggle With Eating Disorders

When I was younger, my father often called me fat. I don't know why he did it, to this day I've never asked him, because I was most assuredly not an overweight child. I suppose compared to my younger sister, who was always rail-skinny when we were younger, I looked heavier, but I was older than her, built differently than her, and also still not fat. Still, the idea took root in my head, probably more so because as a child I was a perfectionist, an overachiever; if my father (and often my sister) were calling me fat, surely I was, and fat in that house was not an acceptable thing to be. I continued to struggle with body identity all the way into middle school, when I discovered a cure for all my woes.

My good friend Mia.

Dying to be Thin: My Struggle With Eating Disorders

Now for those of you unfamiliar with the eating disorder community, Mia is the “friendly” name that people give to their struggles with bulimia; like giving it a cute name means you're not shoving your fingers down your throat and vomiting into the toilet after dinner, or popping laxatives left and right like they're chocolate. Let's get this straight, there's nothing “cute” about an eating disorder, it's a disgusting, ugly monster who doesn't love you. It'll tell you that it does, while whispering in your ear how fat and monstrous you are, all the while you're wasting away in your unending desire to make those doubts disappear.

I don't know if my family knows how much I was struggling with myself; they would often joke about me running right the the bathroom after we finished dinner, but whether they didn't care about what I as doing or simply never put two and two together, I don't know. Either way Mia and I were close friends all throughout middle school, but I still wasn't happy; puberty had caused me to become round and soft, complete with breasts that were so large they become the topic of conversation everywhere I went. I hated myself, I hated my body, I hated everyone. This was a bad time for me, and I remember just coming home and crying.

Why wasn't I good enough?

Eventually Mia and I had a falling out after I was hospitalized in the 9th grade for unrelated mental problems (a different Take for a different day), and they watched me like a hawk. Ensuring that I ate, and ensuring that no purging was taking place, I thought that my battle with eating disorders was done! I left the hospital on medication, in therapy, and optimistic that my life from that point on was going to be better! But you know, it being high school and all that it was pretty much as terrible has it had been before. I neglected my medication and my therapy, and though I didn't return to my former bulimic ways, my relationship with food was far from healthy.

I became the girl who frequently skipped meals, who lied about being hungry, the perpetually dieting girl that we all have in our personal life. No one worries about her having an eating disorder, but they should: sure it's not blatantly anorexia, but any time someone has an unhealthy relationship with food, it's cause for concern.

Dying to be Thin: My Struggle With Eating Disorders

This continued all throughout high school into my early twenties, when my “cutesy” dieting turned into full-fledged anorexia. It became a game, “how long can I go without eating?”, and the things I did eat were very specific foods that I could not waver from. I remember texting a friend sobbing because I had gone out to a restaurant and nothing on the menu was something that I would allow myself to eat. All the while I got skinnier and skinnier, more and more compliments (“You look great!”) starting coming in, and at the same time I was still disgustingly fat. Of course I know now I wasn't fat, I was very underweight, and yet my mind would not allow me to see myself that way. I kept telling myself, just a little bit more and I'll be happy, I can stop, but that kept becoming a little more and a little more and there was no end in sight. My hair was falling out, I was perpetually cold and pale and weak, but in my quest for perfection I wasn't bothered.

And then, I moved out of my father's house.

A change in environment did for me what medication and therapy hadn't been able to do; by surrounding myself with people who loved and accepted me, I finally had the strength to fight back against my eating disorder. It took a long time, but gradually I allowed myself to eat again, to enjoy food, to enjoy life, to be the girl who didn't always say no to dessert, who let herself eat pizza once in awhile...

I let myself be happy.

I finally stopped looking at my body like my enemy, and finally started treating it like my friend.

Dying to be Thin: My Struggle With Eating Disorders

I wish I could tell you that I'm completely cured, but an eating disorder is never something you fully recover from. I still have moments in my life where I will only allow myself to eat one certain thing, and sometimes I will still skip meals or go entire days without eating, but those are few and far between now. I'm the heaviest I've ever been in my life, but I have to say that I'm at my happeist. I look back at pictures of myself when I was at the height of my anorexia, and sometimes I wish that I was that skinny again, but I force those thoughts away. I know that girl wasn't happy, and I will not allow my self-worth to be measured by a scale ever again.

I was lucky, but a lot of people aren't. Eating disorders can be fatal, and they're no laughing matter; there's nothing glamorous about an eating disorder, and being skinny won't make you happy, believe me.

If you or someone in your life is struggling with an eating disorder, please get help. Talk to someone, anyone, please don't suffer alone. Remember that you are so much more than a number on a scale or a pair of jeans.

Dying to be Thin: My Struggle With Eating Disorders

"Get off the scale! You are beautiful. Your beauty, just like your capacity for life, happiness, and success, is immeasurable. Day after day, countless people across the globe get on a scale in search of validation of beauty and social acceptance.

Get off the scale! I have yet to see a scale that can tell you how enchanting your eyes are. I have yet to see a scale that can show you how wonderful your hair looks when the sun shines its glorious rays on it. I have yet to see a scale that can thank you for your compassion, sense of humor, and contagious smile. Get off the scale because I have yet to see one that can admire you for your perseverance when challenged in life.

It’s true, the scale can only give you a numerical reflection of your relationship with gravity. That’s it. It cannot measure beauty, talent, purpose, life force, possibility, strength, or love. Don’t give the scale more power than it has earned. Take note of the number, then get off the scale and live your life. You are beautiful!” -Steve Maraboli

National Eating Disorders Association

1-800-931-2237 (Monday-Friday, 11:30 am-7:30 pm EST)

ANAD: National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders

630-577-1330 (Monday-Friday,12 pm-8 pm EST)

Dying to be Thin: My Struggle With Eating Disorders
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