Dancing with Anorexia
gathered in a spare bedroom of my grandparents? home and prepared themselves for the
ritual at such a tender age. Make-up cluttered the vanity, countless articles of clothing,
pairs of pantyhose, socks, and shoes littered the bedroom floor, and the noise from the
constant conversations was deafening. As much fun as we had during those times, the
three of my aunts, with my mom alongside, pinching their thighs, abdomens, and buttocks,
and cursing every inch of flesh they had. Though I will always cherish the times we spent
together, I cannot discount how these occasions helped contribute to the painful feelings I
spun out of control. I began to restrict my caloric intake and increase the intensity and
frequency of my exercising. During this summer, I also began to induce vomiting when I
did eat. As I had hoped, my weight plummeted twenty pounds before school started that
destructive lifestyle. High school was a roller coaster of weight gains and losses that
times that my weight loss was more severe, and friends were threatening to disclose my
patient. While in the hospital, I was told that in order to recover, I must face the issues
symptom of a much deeper disturbance. Slowly I began to look into the reasons I became
anorexic so many years before. At first, the self-discovery process was intriguing but
feelings and issues arose that made me crawl back into the arms of my eating disorder. I
regressed severely the last month of my stay and was released in almost the same
condition I had been admitted with.
As time passed, the feelings buried deep inside of me fueled the anorexia. I
weighed on my mind constantly. My only escape and comfort was starving myself and
successful at. If I continued to center my attention on issues of dieting, the unbearable
as far as the next hospital and evoked frustration and fright in my family and friends.
Chronic health problems, countless hospitalizations, and losing custody of my
daughter did not stop me from deepening my intimate relationship with anorexia. I was
constantly making promises to recover, gain weight, and make peace with myself both
inside and out. I had sporadic stints of recovery but always fell back into my old, familiar
eighty pounds lighter, I still struggle with anorexia.
The past eleven years have been long, difficult, and tiring. Facing my past and
thought of living in this manner, or dying in this manner, is daunting also. I love my
children, family, and friends with all that I have; however, my recovery cannot solely be
feelings that my battle with anorexia nervosa evolved from.