My anorexia story

I’m from Sweden and I wrote this text about a year ago in my personal blog so I just used Google Translate and it didn’t translate so good but I don’t care. I think you’ll understand it anyway.

“Very much, I have not included due to various reasons. But it all started about three years ago, but it was not until the end of 2009 as she took over my brain. I met a friend, or at least I thought she was a friend. She called Ana, but really she is called Anorexia Nervosa.We became best friends. I did everything for her. She wanted me to feel good, and she knows I would not do it as long as I was fat. Therefore, she tried to help me lose weight.And she succeeded. I started lying to my parents that I was eating with friends or that I had already eaten. I weighed myself every day, several times. I still remember how happy you felt when you saw the numbers on the scale ticking down. Ana was proud, but still not satisfied. She was never satisfied. Never! The school was tough, because I was sick. My parents ended up working so that they could be home with me. I ate less and less each day and in the end I barely even drank water.

       My psychologist at PRIMA made a food schedule to me, but I just laughed. She could write whatever she wanted, I would not eat. My doctor at PRIMA sent a referral to the Stockholm Center for Eating Disorders, also known as SCA. It was 4 months of waiting there, and the weight fell for each day that passed. Became thinner and thinner, but I could not see it. In my eyes, I became bigger and bigger and I thought I was dying of obesity. I began to secretly train at night while my parents were asleep, and also began to reduce anxiety by using razor blades. It helped for the moment, but not for long. I stopped seeing my friends and isolated me completely.

     After a while I started to go to the Sachsska Children’s Hospital in Haninge where I had to weigh me and take pulse and blood pressure every day. The answers were no further good. My doctor there tried to get me to drink nutritional beverages. She wanted me to drink 4 a day, that is 800 calories. The thought scared me. Drank one a day, which I had to because the hospital forced me, under observation. The rest, I would drink at home, but I poured out when nobody was looking. Days passed, and after a long wait, I was forced admitted to SCA when I was in life-threatening condition. It was horrible to see all the skeletons who walked around in the corridor. Became so angry when everyone said I was one of them. That I also looked like that. Why did them lied to me? I was at least 10 times greater than they, according to Ana. I was force-fed. I ate to get home and when I would get home, I thought to kill myself. I was not worth living. I was ugly, worthless, fat, disgusting and a failure.

     Everyone tried to take Ana away from me, my best friend. I did not want to live without her. I fought against. No one would dissociate ourselves. We would stay together forever. When I was discharged from SCA, I betrayed Ana and began to eat a little. But then did the anxiety get a thousand times stronger. Became crazy after every meal. Ran around the whole house, crying, screaming, throwing things, hitting mom and dad, locked me in the bathroom and cut me etc. In the end, dady took off the lock to the toilet and it’s gone today.He even took away the door once, but put it back later.

     The summer came and my suicidal thoughts became stronger and stronger. In the end I managed not by the longer and was admitted to BUP after the police came and picked me up. After one and a half month period where I was discharged and was feeling slightly better. I started hanging out with some friends again and was much happier. High school was approaching. I looked forward to it. When I started high school I ended up in a good class. I clicked immediately with a girl named Linnéa. However, I went just two weeks before I got sick again. But I’m going back. I am struggling to come back! I Linnéa and keep in touch and are friends to this day.

      Well, what happened then? It was sent a referral to the eating disorder clinic Mando. It was waiting for a month. When we arrived at the first meeting I went away after ten minutes when they said they would extend my workout ban. A week later we made another attempt.We were there for four hours, and when we were ready to tell her that they do not accept vegetarians or people who are self-injury prone. I was both, so it was just to thank and say goodbye there. A new referral was sent, but this time for the Capio anorexia Center. It was about a month’s waiting there too. During that time I had begun to fight back Ana, against my will. But I ate the food anyway and it worked. When we got there I didn’t needed to go there because the only thing they could offer was foodpractice and at that moment so I ate properly. It was just thanking you and go from there with. After that, we were just at home every day. Me, mother and father. All survived after Anas rules.

     I began to realize that anorexia was not a friend. She tried to kill me. She wanted me to die of underweight. She tried to get me to terminate contact with all my friends. She wanted me to live in her world. Which I did, and unfortunately still do.

I hate that I count calories and not even manage to drink a glass of water without her screaming at me. I hate that I do not want to go outside the door because I’m ashamed. I hate that I do not care a total of my friends, only because anorexia says I shouldn’t. I hate that I dropped out of school. I hate that I hurt people around me. I hate that I go hungry all the time. I hate that I can not eat what I feel. I hate that I missed out on the funniest time of my teens. I hate my breasts have shrunk. I hate that I’m tired of still and that I can not manage to care about anything anymore. I hate that I have to go to all these damn meetings. I hate that I have a bad conscience when I obey anorexia. I hate that my life revolves around food, weight and exercise. I hate that I compare myself with just everybody. I hate that I look in every mirror, even though I know I will feel crap to see what I see. I hate that I can not sleep at night without dreaming lot of nightmares that is all about food and weight. I hate that I go all day and keep the tears inside, and it can burst at any time and that I get totally crazy. I hate that I’m looking all day for stuff I can hurt me with. I hate that I follow the rules of anorexia. But even though I hate all this, I’m so afraid to let her go. I feel secure in being sick. I love having control. But really, I have no control, the anorexia has. I know I have to dare to trust those around me. That I must dare to take chances. I have to eat. The only way to get away from this, is by eating. By going against anorexia when she screams at and yell back. But I am so terribly afraid. I am afraid of being healthy. Afraid to live without the disease.

I feel imprisoned. Imprisoned in my own body. Together with anorexia. It’s just her and me.And it is she who has the upper hand. But it is about to change. I am stronger than her. I know that. I just have to pick up my hidden powers. I’m so tired of living according to an imaginary voice I have in my head. So tired of living my life after an illness. I am stronger than Ana. And I will prove it.”

 

Sometimes you have to be your own hero