Let's get started... from the very beginning.

There is a HUGE part of my life that only close family and friends know about....  I have been ashamed and embarrassed in the past, but now I feel like people need to know my story and my struggle/struggles.  I also want to share my story for people dealing with the same issues.  I'll cut to the chase,  for around five years I have battled a severe eating disorder that has impacted my life more than you know.  I know this first post will be a LONG one because five years is a long time to sum up. I remember the day the thoughts started.  I was a freshman sitting in "health" class.  We watched "Super-Size Me" and discussed various topics on weight and health.  I distinctly remember reading a little caption on the right hand side of my book that basically said "if you add 100 extra calories a day, you will gain 15 pounds a year."  This completely blind sided me.  So that extra 100 calorie pack of cookies I eat as a snack every day will make me gain 15 pounds by next year?? I opted for the salad line at lunch that day.  I continued to listen to Coach ______ preach about how everything is wrong and bad for you.  I now know that these "facts" were wrong.  Very wrong.  This is where it started.  I tried to cut back on food from when I started the health class, which was in late August.  I was still a normal teenager though.  I ate snack cakes and chips with soda often.  I was pretty small already when all of this started.  I continued to do a little dieting here and there for the next couple months but the first time I ever tried to force myself to throw up was on Thanksgiving in 2009.  It didn't work.

Here's that day I tried it for the first time.

I tried and tried to force my fingers down my throat to get the one spoon of mac & cheese and green bean casserole up, however, my attempts failed.  I was so furious that I could not make it work.  In my text book it said all you had to do was stick your fingers down your throat and it would all come up... they lied.  I decided I would just not eat.  I would get so furious when I gave in to temptation and ate that apple, or drank that juice.  What started off as being restrictive, ended up being nothing.  I literally would eat nothing for three or four days at a time.  I pretended to eat things by saying I had homework and bring my plate in my room, which I would flush or throw away.  At first the pain in my stomach was torture, but I quickly grew to like it.  I liked being starving.  It made me feel accomplished.  I only ate 150 calories today, I did it...YAY.  That was the kind of mind-set I was in.  My mom did not find out for a month or so that I was on this crazy life threatening down hill spiral.  In fact, no one knew.  I wanted to get bone thin and I wanted people to notice.  I remember being at church and they were serving ice cream (my favorite) for dessert and I would not eat any.  My mom had noticed that I acted weird about it and on the way home I finally disclosed to her what I could not hide in a large t shirt anymore.  I physically could not make myself eat and I hadn't done so in a long time.  She immediately got on the phone with my family doctor who asked to see me immediately, so the next day there I was.  I was reluctant and I knew no one would make me eat, because I did not have to.  My body, my choice.  I remember seeing the history on the computer and the last thing searched was Texas Children's Hospital.  But, of course, I was not even close to being bad enough to go there.  I remember looking at my reflection of the outside of the doctors building in my Beatles shirt and skinny jeans thinking how fat I was.

I thought I was fat around this time. I was very sick.

How could I be fat when I don't eat??? I was so mad.  I was called into the office and my mom explained what had been going on as I sat there because I did not want to tell him what I had been doing.  He examined me and told me I needed blood taken.  I had gained 1/4 of a pound since I last weighed myself (which was at least 3 times a day.)  That ruined my day completely.  He asked what I used to make myself throw up... which wasn't very often at the time because I generally opted to not eat instead.  It wasn't worth the work of getting blood shot eyes and a swollen face.  I lied and said "I just do it."  He then looked at both of my hands and told me it was my right hand, which was true, because of the callouses.  He also referred me to a therapist.  I was NOT going to see a therapist because I was not crazy.  I'm not some nut that needs therapy.  He recommended the best he knew of, and I knew I wouldn't go.  The next day I was sitting in the therapist office (thanks mom.)  I was nervous and reluctant, I knew that talking wouldn't help.  I remember sitting there with my ribs protruding through my shirt and my paper thin nails.  I also had to cut my hair off because it was so thin and fragile from lack of nutrients.  I thought I looked good.  Little did I know, I would make friends with someone that would change my life forever.  Madeline Alford entered the room and we discussed what had been going on.  My mom was adamant on me going to treatment but Madeline believed in me.  She gave me a plan, and if I did not reach our goal by the next week, I would go to in-patient treatment. I knew I was not going to treatment.  I was finally ready to fight for my freedom.  I knew I had to listen to her, or else I would be sent away to a cold hospital room with people skinnier than me (which I was scared of.)  I hated girls skinnier than me.  Madeline and I immediately clicked.  She knew what I was thinking at all times.  She gave me hope, when I had none.  I had several nights where my arms, legs, and tongue would go numb from lack of calories.  I would get scared at that moment, but it wasn't enough to change my ways.  With weekly visits to Madeline, I worked on eating sufficient calories.  There was only one problem with that.  Although I started eating again, I started puking EVERYTHING I put in my mouth.  I would throw up after chewing gum because the gum juice had calories.  My mom would watch the bathroom like a hawk, so I would throw up in containers and bags and hide them in my closet or under my bed.  Once my mom wasn't home I would dispose of them.  I did that for months before my mom discovered it.  I was then rushed back to Madeline and the doctor for more testing and therapy.  Madeline gave me a short period of time in which I could show improvement and not be sent to a hospital.  She believed in me when everyone else didn't.  She knew I was strong enough to overcome this obstacle.  I got better little by little.  I added things to my diet like chicken and fish, and tried my best to keep them down.  It took serious work between my mom, Madeline, and I.  I was on my knees every night praying to have the strength to eat and keep down the small amount I was taking in.  I obsessed over every calorie and every bite.  My brain turned into one giant calculator who only thought about food.  I couldn't concentrate on anything except what I was going to eat and throw up or what I was not going to eat.

I pretended to eat by picking at my plate, which barely had anything on it to begin with.

This was at our annual Easter Barbeque.

 

  I struggled for months making small improvements that had my mom and Madeline surprised.  They knew I belonged in a treatment facility, but I wanted to fight this battle without a hospital.  It was my strong will that has kept me alive through the ups and downs of this disease.  You may think I'm some freak, or you may see me differently now, but that's your choice.  I know that I was given this trial to make me stronger, and that is exactly what it has done.  Although I am much better now,  it never goes away.  The thoughts and mind games are always there.  I have to push them out of my brain and replace them with positive thoughts.  I have came to the realization that I will always have an eating disorder.  Sometimes it's bad, sometimes it's okay.  I have my ups and downs, but I am healthy now and I know what is healthy for me.  I work out every day and eat as healthy as possible.  I have to eat strictly or else I run the risk of throwing up my food or beating myself up for days.  I still count my food and my calories to ensure that I do not intake too much.  I owe my life to Madeline Alford.  She truly saved me.  I know God sent her straight to me. I struggle on a daily basis, and I have major anxiety from my disorder but I am able to cope with it with the tools I have been given.  If my jeans are tight in the morning, my day is ruined.  If I eat enough to where my stomach is "too full," I get the urge to throw up.  Sometimes I can overcome the urge, sometimes I cant.  I have recently learned that I can free myself of this incapacitation by engaging in other things.  I keep myself busy from 4:45 A.M, when I eat my breakfast, until night time when I go to bed.  I prepare a weeks worth of meals with the calories and carbs written on the lids.  I have a lunch ready for every day of the week so I do not have to obsess over it the day before.  I am so grateful that I am able to live now.  After overcoming this, I know I can do anything and so can you.  If you are struggling with something similar, I would love to talk and help you.  There is hope, even when you KNOW there isn't.  Any feelings you have, I have had. I have graduated in the top of my High School class, gotten married, and I feel very accomplished about those things considering what I have been through mentally and physically. 

I know most everyone had no clue that I have kept this hidden for so long. From now on I will be posting on this blog to update on my accomplishments, health information, struggles, recipes, and how I deal with my disease on a daily basis.  I control my disease, it does not control me.  I actually am getting muscles from eating right and working out! Something I never thought I could accomplish.  If you have any questions, or need someone to talk to... I am always here.  I would love to help people like me.