What started as a diet turned into waking up one morning and literally telling myself I would not eat anymore. I exercised whenever I could, I would throw my lunch in bins, I lied, I deceived, I would not allow myself to sleep until I had done 500 sit-ups. I forced my fingers down my throat ten times a day, not even binging. I felt unworthy of even having water enter my body. I was weak, I was cold, and I felt alone, I spent my days counting calories, hiding food, being scared of gaining weight, thinking about how I was going to keep my secrets hidden from the people I love most.
It felt amazing to be good at something, and it felt even better to see the number on the scale go down. But this was always a temporary feeling, until the voice in my head would be telling me I was too fat, ugly, and a waste of space. I felt worthless; I wanted nothing more than to disappear. It began with people complimenting me but quickly turned into people begging me to eat. Eventually I was forced into hospital treatment, and remember having an ECG and being told that if I did not start eating I would die. I had a 40% chance of having a heart attack at any time, and I was going to need to gain over 10kg to get discharged. I cannot begin to describe how confusing and alone you feel when everyone is trying to make you eat, love yourself, and gain weight, when the person looking back at you in the mirror is your own enemy. There is literally a voice in your mind feeding you with negative thoughts, but you have no idea that it is destroying you. You cannot simply “just eat”.
I was going to the hospital five days a week, getting blood tests every second day, and regular heart tests. I was put on bed rest at home and was not allowed to do any physical activity. My mum was so scared that she was going to wake up to find me dead because I was so weak. I had no idea how bad my health was, and it is only recently that I can understand how close to death I really was. It is even scarier to admit that I wanted to die. There was an incident where I fainted at home when I was alone, I then drank some water and punished myself for this by purging. This was somewhat of a turning point for me. Did I want this to be me for the rest of my life? I had dreams, and I had goals, and with the amazing support from my family and friends my voice started to become stronger than anorexia. I gained the weight I needed too, got discharged from the services I was under, and then did some extensive counselling to deal with the mental side of the illness, rather than just the symptoms. It was the hardest journey I have ever been on, and I am lucky to be ‘recovered’, and even help people going through the same sort of things.
I would be lying if I said I love my body and I never feel fat and I never struggle. Most of the time I have no issues; some days I need to remind myself how far I have come, and that eating something unhealthy is not going to make me gain ten dress sizes. I have actually turned my focus and life around in the sense that I am motivated to be fit and healthy. I exercise 4-5 times a week, eat healthy, feel the best I ever have about my appearance, and hope that I can stay this way for the rest of my life.
Recovery can seem scary, and it is. But trust me when I say it is worth it. You begin to see the beauty of life again, the reasons why you exist and that your existence and worth is nothing to do with the number on a scale. Smash the scale if it helps, because it is nothing. And you are worth everything. Beauty is more than skin deep; your personality, your laugh, your goals, your dreams, your wishes, they are all beautiful. Everyone has scars, but scars tell a story and are nothing to be ashamed of. When the battle gets tough, do not give up because there is so much waiting on the other side. It does not matter how long it takes you to get there.
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