WHEN SHE LOOKS IN THE MIRROR...

... SHE SEES FAT.

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KRISTY'S STORY: "ALL IS NOT LOST FOR ME..."

Kristy's story...

"I've been following your blog for a while now, and there are really no words to describe what it has done to me, or what it means to me.

I’m not particularly articulate, and I don't have a way with words to inspire and change lives, but I'm hoping to just share the hell the past 10 years has been for me.

I'm only 18 years old and I've been suffering from many different eating disorders on and off since I was 8 years old. I began to binge eat when my parents split up, I would eat and eat until I couldn't feel the pain anymore. I was always a heavy set child, and this didn't help me any. I didn't have a single friend until I turned 10 years old because all I wanted to do was be alone and eat. I was eight years old and living inside my own head, and inside my own body. There was no terror worse for me than to look for food to eat in secret and not being able to find any. A frantic search would begin until my void was filled. Instead of dealing with the divorce I covered it up with food.

This continued until I was about 14 years and old my mother began to criticize everything I did, wore and ate. Some attribute disordered eating to a family history or parental influence, for me that influence was my mother. My mother was severely anorexic and exercised non stop all her life. Her proud illustration of herself when she was 18 years old was that she was so thin my father. All of the pressure my mother created about weight and image drove me to start dieting (at 14 years old, no less), at first it was harmless and I cut out fat and sugar but then I began to cut down absolutely anything non-essential (in my opinion) until I was eating no more than 300 calories a day. I lost 20 pounds in a month, and 60 pounds in the following four months. I adored how my friends and family swooned over my sudden change, saying how fantastic I looked. I counted my bones in delight several times a day, pleased with my "diet" and how well it worked.

However like most anorexics, this was not enough. I continued to lose weight until my parents confronted me about my eating. I was 5"9 an 105 lbs BMI 15.5 when things turned for the worse. I was told I had to go to my doctor and "smarten up". I went to the doctor once a week to weigh in and do a check up, a dietitian to help me with meal plans (funny thing was, when I was binge eating I had gone to the same dietitian to LOSE weight) and my psychiatrist once every week. I lied through my teeth to every one of them, and somehow to this day I still haven't talked to the psychiatrist about my eating disorder. Everything was going well for me while I accepted this treatment, and as much as I wish my story could have a "phew close call, I almost ruined my life" moment and be wrapped up in a tidy little bow, it can't.

About three months after being put into out-patient treatment (they would have sent me to in-treatment if there was a treatment centre closer than 2000 km away) I decided I didn't like treatment anymore, and began to purge all of my specially coordinated meals three times a day or throwing them in the trash bin at school. My best friend caught on after a few months, and confronted me about what I was doing. He begged me to stop, and after much conversation I agreed to stop. That lasted for a few months until I couldn't take it anymore, so I started my binge and purge cycle that lasted until only a few months ago. I gained much weight, and have since fallen into a pattern of starvation, for a week at a time, followed by one small meal. I am sickened by my appearance and have covered all mirrors in my house. I do not know if I will ever be well, but I know I can not let myself die, not this soon and certainly not like this.

I am 18 years old and suffer from osteoporosis from what I have done to myself for a large portion of my life. There are days where my knees hurt so much I can not walk, I can not move. I can not lift anything heavier than 10-15 lbs. I once had gorgeous hair and beautiful skin, and what remains is dry, brittle hair and sunken grey skin. This is the hell I live in every single day. It was not by any means worth it, I am not thin, beautiful, rich and popular. I am fat, swollen, grey and lonely.

All is not lost for me though, I plan to attend university and get a psychology degree, so I can help girls who were misunderstood and lonely just like me. I want to notice the signs and behaviors before it’s too late for other girls. I want to change lives in ways I wish mine could have been changed.

There will always be those who suffer, but I want to change at least one of those people. Websites like yours can make a change, it can open the eyes of those who suffer or of those in denial of suffering, and show them it is not glamorous but painful and deadly. Please never stop the movement for change, it is life saving.


With love,

Kristy."

(((Kristy)))

You're right...all is not lost for you. Never give up, hon.

Best wishes to you for recovery of your health and much happiness in 2010.

~ Medusa
xoxoxo

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A very Happy New Year to all of you!

I can't thank you enough for your support and friendship over the past year.

May 2010 bring you health, happiness, love, and inner peace.

~ With love, Medusa

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MANDY'S STORY: "AT THE END OF THIS ROAD, I MIGHT CATCH A GLIMPSE OF ME"

Mandy's story...

"As I type this, my roommate is eating what appears to be a really delicious slice of pizza. I’ve just finished painting my nails – a compulsive habit I tend to engage in while avoiding food. While I was painting my nails, I was getting more and more angry. Why, WHY, couldn’t I enjoy a piece of pizza? At what point did things change so drastically that I can’t eat one piece of pizza without throwing it up? What has happened to me? These are a few of the many questions that have popped up over the past 18 months.

Shape magazine has a “Success Stories” section. I always wanted to be one of those stories. I would scour the Shape website looking for more and more success stories. After all, if they could do it – so could I!! Now my story would read more as a warning, rather than a success.

Teenage years – on and off disordered eating. Nothing, in my mind, neither dramatic nor serious. I did end up in the ER with a Mallory-Weiss Tear when I was 19. I maintained an average weight and was really active in high school. Then I went to college, gained a lot of weight and never lost it.

Three years and one messy breakup after I graduated college, I’m at my heaviest weight ever. I am 5’4” and weighed 235 lbs. I bought a house on my own and decided something had to change. I would eat 1,000 calories per day and I’d start exercising. Nothing specific triggered this. I had owned my house for about two months and was on my own for the first time in my life. I could control every single thing that entered my home. No junk food around means no mindless eating, etc. So, I started my “diet.”

I lost 25 lbs in four weeks. The next month, I lost 20 lbs. After that, my caloric limit dwindled slowly. It started at 1,000, and then went to 800, then to 600, then to 300. Eventually I started fasting. By November I had lost 75 lbs. People started worrying and I was sent to a therapist. My therapist was an idiot. I was diagnosed as bulimic, and was giving me a treatment plan as such. At this point, I was fasting for three or so days, eating a bowl of cereal, and purging it. His brilliant solution was for me to “eat more”. Hell no. I quit treatment in February and had lost 20 more lbs.

I bounced along, calling in sick to work all the time because I felt like I was going to die. While seeing my therapist, I figured “if I’m going to be treated as a bulimic, I might as well F**KING EAT!” I started binging and purging 4-6 times per day for weeks, then starving myself in between. I lost more weight, although it slowed down.

Enter the side effects. Constant bruising, dry skin, lanugo on my face, exhausted, purging involuntarily, soul-crushing depression, anxiety, constantly dizzy, passing out in the shower (scary when you live alone) and the overwhelming self-hatred that eating disorders require to thrive.

I snapped in October. I had “binged” (3 oz steak and 2 cookies), purged and snapped. The next thing I knew, two hours had passed and I had thoroughly cut the hell out of my arms and legs. I don’t think I was trying to kill myself, but I also don’t think I would have cared if I died.

After the dust settled, I had moved back in with my parents and weighed about 125 lbs. I stayed there for three weeks. I got a psychiatrist and a new therapist (both of whom are wonderful). That was almost three months ago.

Me today: I take 60 mg of Prozac per day. My weight is about 114. That being said, my set weight is 130, so according to my doctors, I’m about 15 lbs underweight. According to my friends and family, I look “sick.”

Treatment is alright. I’m making good progress in therapy, but am still engaging in eating disordered behavior. I’m purging less, although still 4-5 times per week. I stopped abusing laxatives, which is great for me. I’ve stopped over-exercising, and am eating twice per day, every day.

This is the rub: I weighed myself a few days ago and discovered I’ve gained 4 lbs in the past three months. Consequently, I’m fasting for the next three days. Why is it, after everything that has happened over the past year and a half that it is my first reaction? I logically know this isn’t what I should be doing, but I am not willing to change my behavior.

Now that all of that has been said – I’m still going to fight. I will pick the pieces up after this set back is over, and I will fight. I cannot live like this forever. It’s either get better or die. I don’t necessarily want to live, but I owe it to myself and my family to try as hard as I can.

Keep fighting.

Mandy"

(((Mandy)))

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VELVET SCARLETT: AN UNFINISHED STORY...

More Colour, More Conflict by Velvet Scarlett

From Velvet Scarlett...

"I just stumbled across your website today (its Christmas day so I guess I should mention that first). After reading so many stories I feel I have found a 'safe' place... finally. Today is Xmas day and I haven't visited any ana sites etc. in a good 2 months. The reason? The first month my internet was down... the 2nd? My wonderful friend emz. The reason I am visiting now and stumbled across your website? I can not cope. It's the holidays and I can not see emz. I have work everyday which is so stressful (explain in a bit) and Christmas was not Christmas for me.

Normally my mum, dad, older sis and I go away for the Xmas week to somewhere else in the UK (I live near London) and I attempt to forget about everything but that’s probably because I throw myself into swimming 3 times a day on that week. This year we stayed at home cos I got a job. The run up to Xmas was a blur, all I did was go to 6th form college, work experience at a primary school, work (sales assistant), sleep and have baths. There was never time for eating, preparation for the holidays or anything like. So Christmas day came and it was just like any other day. So what? I had one present from mum, dad and sis (normally we gets loads) so that was weird but to be honest, I don't think having loads of presents would of changed how I feel. I draw a complete blank on my feelings and sense of reality. I am so confused inside and on the outside I just paint an average happy person so people don't notice the dying me inside. At work this is important but I find it really hard because my boss is always picking on me, blowing hot and cold. I don't know where I stand with her and that un-nerves me.

I have realized that I have not really introduced me/my story yet... so.... I am currently 16yrs old 5'9 with a bmi of 16. I would not class myself as anorexic but I know deep down I have issues but I choose to ignore. My response to friends/family pleas to eat normally/your killing yourself: *lash out* I don't like it, I won't eat it. I know I won’t live past 50, I never intended to. I recently refused the cervical cancer jab because of my attitude with dying... if I get cancer, I will refuse treatment. Plus I am needle phobic/faint in hospital like situations.

I started secondary school at age 11 and had bum length hair. I was not 'cool' and did not know anyone. I started off with the popular girls but after a few weeks they soon realized I didn't know enough about what they did and I was dropped. I floated for a bit and made friends with sam. She was a large girl who was in my form and got on my bus... that meant we had ages to talk. We started out happy-go-lucky until November when my 17-year-old cousin died of cancer. I was devastated as she was my 'favorite', I looked up to her, I wanted to be her. People said we looked the same and now I was worried people would look at me and just think of her. I couldn't cope with the grief. The moment I heard she was dead? I was in the kitchen washing up grapes and apples for me and my sister to take to school when dad answered the phone. I knew straight away what it was about and I just walked off. Ever since I can’t eat grapes/apples. They just utterly repulse me.

When I got back from the funeral I don't remember much. But somehow at school I got talking with sam, becci and camille (we became a tight group) and I discovered that sam and camille self harmed. At the time it was alien to me but after a while I understood, I was there for them. But I wasn't strong enough and saw it as a way to cope... the first time I ever self harmed? I was with becci, we just finished maths class and we went into the 'chlorine' toilets and we both cut our arms. She did it lightly and moaned that I had done it so hard but I didn't care, the pain was a relief to me and I enjoyed it. We went onto the field to meet the others and then quickly realized what we had done. They told us off and I felt so ashamed but at the same time I didn't care, I liked it too much. (Revisiting those toilets now gives me a ghost like playback of this... I can’t go there no more)

The self harming quickly spiraled and soon we would cut throughout the day. One day in science though the other three didn't show to school. I truly believed they had committed suicide. As time passed by (I tried calling each of them one after the other on a continuous loop) one girl sarah (becci's childhood best friend who was also in our form) convinced me that maybe they had just run away but she didn't understand the extent of the pain they were going through. Eventually they did show and they were ok. I remember telling my form tutor one day about those three self harming and they were sent to the school nurse... camille saw it as betrayal, we were no longer friends. Sam and becci however never found out I told on them and we carried on strong. We still self harmed but not as much. We turned our attention to smoking and drinking in the school loo's with the older girls. We never got caught. This wasn't enough though and I quickly introduced them to taking pills (pain relief etc. aka clean drugs) and soon we would chase a fag, with a couple of pills and a drink every 3 hours or so. One day I had to struggle to hold sam up in class but do you know what? We never got caught and that thrill spurred me on. The others stopped the pill taking but I had found a new haven, my self harming (cutting) reduced whilst the others did the opposite. We experienced many fallings out over those months. Somehow I found out that sam was bulimic and although I have a phobia of sick, the food way of coping fascinated me but I never considered it at that point.

Somewhere in that mess above I attempted suicide by drowning in which I nearly succeeded if it weren't for some higher power that lifted me out.... I believe that that power was God (I am Christian) but the strange thing was afterwards I called camille for support even though I knew I wouldn't find it there. To this day I do not understand that phone call. But the haunting of that attempt is still strong even though my bathroom was redecorated completely.

So the eating.... I don't really remember how it started except I was angry that I forgot my cousin’s anniversary of her death, I was constantly in rows at home and friends were complicated. The pills were still on and the cutting increased slowly. I was depressed, un-sociable. I felt alone. Confused as to where my perfect life had gone and desperate. I remember locking myself in the bathroom and completely breaking down. I guess I started to reduce what I ate because I didn't feel hungry as I was so depressed. but in addition, in my perfect world I was 6 stone and I thought I still was, but one day my period started (start of yr 9) and I found out I weighed over 10 stone nearly 11. I silently freaked inside and I think that those numbers shook my confidence more than ever. Double figures was not something I could cope with.

Normal food became replaced with chewing gum. I would eat on average 10 pieces a day.... it felt good. I think I must have looked at the scales but I don't really remember, the days were hazy with the not eating, pills and cutting. During the holidays though I would binge and without meaning to I would be sick as my body would reject it. I had mixed feelings about this and it’s something I try not to remember but as I said.... memories are strong and I still replay the first day this occurred.

As time went on me and sam grew apart, becci and I warred a lot and sometimes I was on my own completely. Then in year 11 a new girl came, an ex anorexic and we hit it off straight away... not because of the ana but our personalities (both loud when we can manage it). Life seemed to be better and I think I stopped harming myself but the eating was still not right. I was a very fussy eater and would cut out as many meals as I could.

In Feb. 09 I was ana obsessed and as I was still 'fat' (at about a bmi of 19) I would not admit that I was ana. Anyway... I ran every night and I relished the pounds dropping off. Me and becci passed notes during gcse lessons but I never really admitted how I was feeling which was I couldn't cope with the gcses and I wanted to run away. I had a crush on her (yes, I think I am bi but that’s another story) but I missed my chance with her and she was going out with emz. (me and emz were kinda friends, I hung out with her when I fell out with the others, we got on but she didn't know about the mess I was in). Anyway, they broke up and I didn't know who to side with but I went with becci... mistake. Well I didn't know that till I started 6th form.

Anyway, results were good and I looked forward to starting yr 12. I was job hunting but hadn't found anything. I was heavy on the pill popping and still a fussy eater but that was it. Then a few weeks in I quickly realized I couldn't cope with as work and being 'perfect'. Me and emz got moved to a smaller media group away from the others and we soon clicked. Since then I have spent many days texting her, bunking off school with her, smoking, cutting, pill popping and not eating (well little as I can get away with). My grades are slowly dropping and I have exams in January :( my weight is constantly dropping... my mum notices this and we row all the time.

Emz has noticed and she cares too much to see me destroy everything (she is in recovery of sorts) and is trying to help me. It works when I am with her everyday cos I don't want to let her down. I love her (again... can’t really define the love part here because I didn't fancy her but as we got closer, my feelings increased. Now I can’t stop thinking about her every minute of the day but I don't think she feels the same but we are facebook 'married' because we are pretending to date to annoy becci... childish I know but I couldn't say no to being close with her). When I’m with her she helps me to go without cutting and pills for up to 6 weeks at a time. She helps with the withdrawal symptoms and can make me laugh so hard that I forget the shit. But now we are away from school and I can’t see her I am breaking down. I miss her, and to cope with that all I can think of is cut and take stuff... I haven't yet but I feel it’s not far away hence why I was surfing the net.

But where me and her run into difficulties is on the eating front. She tries to get me to eat a chip when we go for lunch but I can’t. I fight her and it’s 50/50 who wins. She tries to get me to eat but I can’t bring myself to. I switched from lemonade 2cal drink to sprite for her so I would get sugar to give me energy cos I walk so much and I manage the odd chocolate bar and jelly tots (I have a sweet tooth) but when it comes to normal food I am so stubborn. I am not like normal 'ana.' I hate fruit and vegetable. If I eat, it’s chicken or something unhealthy like chocolate, custard, jelly etc. however, I do occasionally have an urge for 'proper' food and pig out at McDonalds (I manage to keep the food down). But if I am busy I will forget about food. I only eat if I really have to and I am not ready to give up my control over this.

I realize I have a problem, but stamping down on the pills and cutting is giving up enough power. I like those numbers falling, being the skinniest girl is what I want (at primary school I was naturally the skinniest but I was bullied all the time so maybe that contributed to all of this). I can not give it up now, and it kills me because I am disappointing emz, and I can see the rebel I have become and my perfect life is fast slipping away.

If I fail these exams in January, that will set alarm bells ringing among my teachers and parents and I know I will be forced to tell the truth. I am afraid of the truth. I lie to most people to create a perfect me. (This email is the truth though) I lie to the doctors when I have pains to get the pills and I cannot stop. My head is confused, it can’t take anymore emotion but I know I need help but I can’t seek professional.

Writing this now is a stretch because I am arguing with myself whether or not to send it. I am crazy and I know it but I won't admit it as such and seek help because I cannot give up the 'control' I have.

so that’s me and my story so far.............
love ***I"

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