This I Believe

Overall Belief Statement: I believe that recovery is possible.

Recovery is Possible

From all the therapist and doctors I have seen, they all seem to start with the same question, “ Where did this begin?”. That’s the same question I am unable to answer today. It’s not a cold; I didn’t catch this from anyone. I couldn’t tell you where it began, but can tell you how unfathomably enthralled by this disease I became.

            I remember being on my first diet in elementary school. I didn’t start with a low self-esteem but somehow I got there. I slowly began to forget what it was to feel all right, to feel steady, to feel secure. My hands began to shake, my nails were blue, I was losing hair on my head and growing hair on my arms. It really is incredible the way our bodies try to save us from slowly killing ourselves. The hair I grew was called Lanugo; it’s our body’s way of protecting ourselves from low temperatures. I was cold all of time. I began to measure things in their absence instead of their presence.

            I can’t describe how uncomfortable I was in my own skin. I would spend hours in my room crying just wishing I could peel my flaws away. I wanted to escape my body. It became much more than weight, a number, or food. I hated myself. After each meal that I didn’t eat I would walk to my room, lock the door, and graze my pale hand over my stomach counting each of my ribs. I knew I wasn’t fat, I knew I was thin but it was never enough. In the morning I ate dry cereal and at night I ate five almonds, I didn’t allow lunch. I grew perpetually tired. The idea of going to ballet class after school was daunting. Slipping on my leotard in front of a wall of mirrors became harder. Yes, this may seem sick and disturbing but I felt invincible, it was an incredible high. My teachers at school and the ballet studio started to call my house.

One day my mom pulled me out of school to go to the doctor, I thought they were going to laugh at her. I was wrong. I remember lying down on the sterile plastic sheet, face white as snow. She pulled my shirt up; I was too tired to show my discontentment. “ When did this begin?”

            I was hospitalized for months, got out, relapsed, went back to the hospital. I had to break this cycle and finally I replaced dying with living. I don’t know where my eating disorder began and realized there is no definite end. I’m learning that this is always something I’ll deal with but not always something I will have to fight. I learned that recovery isn’t easy but it is possible. I finally saw my light at the end of the tunnel.