Growing up I was not living in a stable enviornment and was not being parented. My Dad was an alcoholic and my Birth Mom was Anorexic herself and suffered from Schizophrenia. This resulted in a lot of moving around and a lot of me comparing myself to my birth mom. I was probably around the age of seven when it clicked in my brain that if I eat less, I will weigh less or so I thought.
When I was eight my birth mom went into a psychosis and my brother and I got taken away from her. My Dad found out and quick drinking cold turkey to take care of my brother and I. To this day my Dad is my best friend. I never used any behaviors or anything until I was eleven. I decided one day I would put my knowledge to the test. I had eaten what had felt like “too much” pizza and decided I would get rid of it. I purged for the first time and it felt good. I had always been a little chubby but I didn’t hate it until I found out I was suppose to.
I purged that one time when I was eleven but never really thought about it much more after that until I was twelve. I was growing taller and people were complimenting me on thinning out. Little twelve year old me loved the attention. My birth Mom decided she would move back in with us when I was twelve. This was the start of what felt like a never ending tornado. She had continued being sick and would try to commit suicide regularly which left me feeling out of control. She was abusive and manipulative. Food was something I felt like I could control so I stopped eating when I was fourteen. I lost weight and I lost it quick. Because I was a little chubby my whole family congratulated me on ‘getting healthy’. I went vegan and took it way too far.
I was not eating enough and it was evident for anyone who was paying attention. My hair was falling out and I was passing out regularly. My grandma finally realized what I was doing was not healthy and she took me to the doctor. The doctor immediately recognized the symptoms and diagnosed me with Anorexia Nervosa when I was sixteen years old. She then proceeded to tell me that I had messed up my heart due to not eating enough. Little did I know this would be the start of my recovery journey.
I was referred to a residential treatment center for adolescents. I stayed there for three and a half months and insurance dropped me. A week later I was admitted into Doernbecher Children’s Hospital for malnutrition. I was there for a week and then was sent back to Clementine. Long story short I was at Clementine three separate times and at a partial hospitalization program for three separate times as well. By the time all of this treatment was said and done I was already eighteen.
I am eighteen and now happily in recovery, it is hard as hell but it has been so worth it. I have my days and occasionally my weeks, but all around I continue to fight every day because my life depends on it and because recovery is worth it.