My Eating Disorder: An Internal Struggle

Prolog: My Story

Let me just start by saying, “it feels so great to finally let this out”(pun intended). This is my story; the story of my struggle, my pain, my suffering but also my victory, my triumph, and my survival. It’s my story. It’s my life…

The Beginning: A Disaster in the Making

I’m not going to lie or make anything up, I don’t know how it started, I don’t know why it started, but I do know when it started: 4th grade. For a long period I just had this strange feeling. I felt like my world was crumbling in around me and I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to stop it. I just couldn’t.

My life was good. Why did I feel like this? I was surrounded by loving family, great friends, outstanding grades, I was part of a team, I was healthy, I had everything anyone could have ever wanted, and yet I felt so empty. This is where things get blurry… I don’t know how the transition happened, but it did.

I started eating less. When I ate I felt sick. At first it was a slight decrease, but soon I felt fuller quicker and quicker till I ate almost nothing. It took a few months before my parents noticed… that’s when things got worse.                                                                                                                                Image result for person on scale

The Rising Action: From Bad… To Worse

My parents were concerned that I wasn’t eating enough; they thought I was sick (I was, just not in the way they thought). So, of course, we went to the doctor’s. The doctor said that I hadn’t loss too much weight and said that we would monitor the issue, gave me medicine for a stomach ache and that was that.

As any person trying to hide something I took precautions. These precautions being mainly two things:

  1. I ate in front of my parents.

Basically when I was around my parents I ate all the food they would put on my plate. However, this food didn’t stay eaten for long. I just felt so sick after eating and I couldn’t do anything till the food was out of my body. This is where the purging comes in;

“What goes up, must come down,” ~Issac Newton

My version of this very scientific quote was, “What goes down must come up,” if you catch what I’m saying. For the less analytical of those who are reading this; I PUKED UP EVERYTHING I ATE. If I ate over 1,000 Calories then it was too much for me bear, so I didn’t.

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  1. I wore very baggy clothing to hide my weight loss.

All my clothes I wore were 2-3 sizes too big. If my clothes were much bigger I must look bigger was my logic I suppose. It seemed to work too; it took till midway through 6th grade, 2 years later, before my parents became suspicious again.

In that time I went from 80 pounds to 60 pounds. At that point, being the 4 feet 9 inch boy that I was at the time, I was NOT at a healthy weight, despite what anyone says. It came to a point where my body had so little fat to keep itself warm it grew fine hairs covering my body to hold in heat, I later found this hair to be called lanugo. I began to have my teeth just fall out, my nails would constantly break, and I would constantly get dizzy and faint. *I WAS FALLING APART AND I LOVED IT*

I had control in a sense. I don’t know why I loved it so much, but I did. For the first time in a long time I was happy with where I was in life. Of course as is life: if it seems too good to be true, it is. And it was…

Climax: The End is near, or is it

Elementary school was over and I was entering to new era of my education, MIDDLE SCHOOL. But little did I know that wasn’t the only thing was going to change, poor naive me.

Unlike in elementary school you don’t get walked from class to class by a teacher, your parents don’t look through your take-home folder and remind you to do your homework (which will be done 75% by them indirectly giving you the answers), and you get to pick who you eat lunch with.

Since we got to pick where to and who to eat lunch with, I chose to eat with my friends. Unlike in elementary school, where you were forced to sit with your classmates, whether they liked you or not, my friends would pay attention to me at lunch. THIS WAS NOT GOOD. I was put on the spot, people watched me eat, or the lack of in my case. After a few weeks my friends started to make comments, they would ask if I felt sick, if I was okay, or if I wanted any of their food. I would simply just say “I’m fine”. Now of course I wasn’t but they didn’t know that.

This is where things start to go bad. I had to go to the doctors to get my middle school vaccinations. *FULL PANIC MODE!!!* That day I ate, ate, ATE, and drank, drank, DRANK so much. I held in all my urges to pee, poop, and puke, of course. Now of course I knew my own weight, but oh boy was everyone else in for a treat. My weight was 64 pounds after my binge fest, but that was not enough. I was in the 42 percentile for height and the 3rd percentile for weight. *YIKES, I’M CAUGHT*

I don’t know why my mom waited till this point to bring this up but she told my doctor that she was suspicious that I was starving myself (wow took you long enough Mom). So I, being the pissy preteen that I was, zoned out and refused to answer any questions. Now this just supported my mother’s case. So as any primary care physician without too much knowledge on a specific subject, he sent me to a specialist about an hour away.

My first appointment with the specialist was the worst experience of my life and for the next two years of weekly checkups it seemed worse every time. The nurses were rude, the drive was long, the questions were stupid, and I felt that I was getting no benefit from this. Now, as for the first appointment: I was diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia Nervosa , my blood work was atrocious, I passed out, I peed in a cup, and I swore I would never trust my mother again.

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The Ending: The Wounds Heal but the Scars Remain

        Eventually it came to a point where by doctor said that if I didn’t make a change soon my body would give in, it had endured too much, and I would die. That was that, I didn’t want to change, but I didn’t want to die. It didn’t happen overnight, it didn’t even happen in the first few months, but I’m alive and well today. That wasn’t the end and I don’t quite think the end exists. I will always struggle with my body and how I perceive it; I still have painful acid reflux from constantly forcing myself to puke; I am always freezing from deficiencies and blood circulation problems; I constantly get dizzy and even blackout; I can’t eat without terrible stomach pain; I always read nutrition values before eating;   and I have mad anxiety that keeps me up late at night scared something terrible will happen; but still, I am fine.                                                                                

        If you haven’t realized the moral of this blog here it is: if you don’t want to get better, you won’t. *If you are struggling to find reasons to get better click here  or here to find reasons*

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Don’t be a victim of this disease, be a survivor.

*If you have suffered from this disease or uneducated on it, I highly recommend watching this video*

Have you been in the past, or are currently, struggling with an eating disorder? Please share your story down below to give inspiration to others or get tips on how to get better.


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