The sun shines through and lights up my room like fireworks as it reflects off my bright purple walls. I open by eyes as my alarm goes off. Why? I asked myself as I reached over and snoozed my alarm. I got up and went into by daily ritual. I walked over to my closet and felt by heart throb as I say the same selection of clothes from all the days before. I grabbed the same pair of sweat pants and tee shirt I always do and slipped them on. I walk down stairs and into the kitchen. Or also known at the battle ground. My mom is cooking eggs and bacon while my dad reads his bible at the island in the middle of the kitchen. I grab an 80 calorie yogurt from the fridge ignoring the delicious smell of the bacon as I know it is a hard off limits food to eat that as I feel the fat of my stomach press against my sweatpants. I am sit next to my dad and stare at the yogurt. My dad gives me the eat it or else look. After a few more seconds I open up the container and feel my body start to heat up and shake. The tears are being held back in my eyes. After forcing the yogurt down I head to my room. After my parents finish breakfast and my dad heads to the office as my mom goes to their bedroom. I sneak to the bathroom and start the shower. I grab my toothbrush and take a deep breath. I kneel down by the toilet as the steam from the shower wraps around my like a blanket. I turn the tooth brush handle to face me as I lean over the toilet. I tune out the world as I let the toothbrush in control at I shove it into my throat and I start to cough. Then the hurricane comes. My vomit fills up the toilet as I try to smile while continuing to throw up. I finish up and wipe my face off and brush my teeth with my second tooth brush I got so I didn’t have to brush them with the same one I use for my purging. I then head outside to the kitchen. My mom is there and gives me the I know look. I then went into my bedroom as I heard my mom head into my bathroom and flush the toilet before shouting to my dad to inform him that their daughter is sick again. I curl up in a ball under my soft blanket on my bed. I just let the happiness of my feels wash through me. No calories so far. All is good in the world. I pull out the calendar from my desk draw after hearing my mom and dad both leave for work. I check off yesterday. Day 30 home sick. I notice the appointment on the calendar for tomorrow at a specialist an hour away. My stomach does another flip. Oh great another one. My mom has drug me to millions of doctors these last thirty days to solve the problem. Little did she know there was no medicine for this. I just needed to stay away from school until I improved myself enough to me acceptable for my old friends who had so rudely shoved me away like I wasn’t even good enough to be the grass they walk on. The notes I got from them sat under the calendar. I did my normal routine of reading the hate notes to give me encouragement to push though this healing. I head to the entryway and sit on the bench while putting on my shoes. I am already worn out and it’s only 8 am. I felt guilt run through my body. I put my headphones in and pressed the play button. I opened the door to the crisp spring morning. I started to run feeling the wind pass around me. I tried to focus on the music to mask the pain. After about 3 miles found myself at the bottom of my driveway. I went to the garage and hopped on my bike. I found myself back on the old country road. I pushed myself more and more. After what seems like an entity, but really only one hour I find myself once again back at the bottom of my gravel driveway. After putting my bike away I entered into my house and grabbed my mom’s yoga mat from my parents’ bedroom and went into the living room where I played the Jillian Michael’s
workout. After the thirty minutes of the workout is done. I turn on the tv and lay down on the couch to relax for just a second. My bones feel weak, head starts to spin, my body shakes, I shiver from being cold even after all my workout. I close my eyes for just one second and before I know it I pass out. I woke up and before I knew it is was 3pm. I felt my stomach growl so I went into my parents bathroom to find the scale and see if my weight was good enough for me to eat. I stood in from of the scale hating myself because I knew the number wouldn’t be good enough. As the dooming red lights appeared they confirmed my fear. I still hadn’t lost any more weight. I headed into the bathroom and purged again in hopes the number would go down. I then brushed my teeth before brushing my hair as I watched even more hair fall out. I went into the living room and turned on the TV again. I picked out one of the many movies my mom got me from the library these last thirty days. I sat down and watched it. Hating myself even more as I keep thinking why can’t I look good enough like the actresses do? How do they every get the skinny? I watched the movie until my mom came home. I sat in the kitchen doing homework while she cooked dinner. My dad came home and they ate together as I ate one of my salads I made as I counted each things out to made sure I knew exactly how many calories was in it , from the last olive and carrot. I then went into my bedroom and waited until my parents went onto the office to work on paperwork before sneaking back into my bathroom and purging again. I let my mom see it like normal and brushed my teeth before heading to my bedroom and passing out again. I didn’t awake until my alarm went off and the light flooded my room again as I prepared to start the routine all over again.
This is a day in the life of someone with a eating disorder. I was 12 when I developed my anorexia, but wasn’t officially diagnosed until I was 18. By then it was two weeks until my high school graduation and after a four-hour evaluation they told me I might not be able to graduate with my class with the inpatient treatment I needed. They postponed it and tried outpatient treatment and I lost even more weight and ended up wearing the same size as my 9 year old cousin. I was then taken to the ER and sent to UOI Hospitals and Clinics for 4 months where I was locked up and weighed every morning at 6 am and forced to eat whatever they sent on your tray or else you had to sit at a small table with a nurse starring at you until the next meal for about 5 hours with nothing to do like even an adult coloring book. I was pushed from therapy group to therapy group 24 hours a day and they even had to take us to the bathroom and see us flush the toilet. I was then released to partial program Monday through Friday 8-4 at the hospital while staying at a local medically facility that remined me of American Horror Story. Once release I lived with my parents for a semester while attending a local community college. Then once my parents felt I was okay on my own I moved an hour away to live with my boyfriend. I know live in the same apartment with my now fiancée going to a private college for psychology to become a children’s therapist. I work with a therapist on an adult behavioral health unit and at a company taking care of four disabled ladies in the home they share while taking care of my pug puppy. I couldn’t have gotten to where I am with my eating disorder leading my life. I wouldn’t be alive at all. Eating disorders are the number one killer among mental disorders. Now eating disorders don’t just got away, but we learn to control them and say enough is enough. I am in control and don’t need you. We have to wake up every day and say not today eating disorder. For we are worth so much more.