i never knew that an inanimate object could be my biggest enemy. it’s digital numbers and cold glass front give me chills every time i stepped on it. closing my eyes praying the numbers would go down. breathe i tell myself as i look at the numbers. just breathe. “it’s okay” is the first thing i say as i try to calm myself. the numbers went up instead of going down. “i’ll just skip lunch or maybe eat half of dinner” is a common phrase i think while reassuring myself that i WILL go down again. Every time i start to feel hunger, i tell myself i will go another jean size up, anyway i feel prettier when i’m hungry. pretty hurts, right? i first got the idea of “skinny” when i heard the doctor say 127 pounds. Chills ran down my spine as i heard these horrifying words. i felt i had to do something. i couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. I was disgusted. slowly, i stopped eating. inch by inch, i started losing weight. i loved how i looked after the first few shedded pounds. i need to lose more to look picture perfect. my clothes started fitting loose and my face started looking thinner. people started noticing, and i loved it. questions started flooding in, “how did you lose weight to fast?” “just changed my diet”, i would say. i couldn’t let anyone know my secret. but there were consequences to my actions. i would often feel week and i would get sick very easily. the dark circles under my eyes became more visible and i was easily fatigued with doing minimal activity. soon, my collar bones became visible and so did my rib cage. i looked sort of scary. it’s not enough. not till i looked like a bobble head i told myself. i thought maybe if i was skinny, boys would like me. all my friends had boys begging on their knees for them, but I didn’t. I wanted to make all my friends envy me. all I want is to be beautiful. all I want is for a boy to look at me like i’m the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen. but they don’t. so i’ll try my best to make them. when girls talk about their boyfriends, it makes me very insecure. almost as if nobody notices me. it sounds shallow i know, but there’s this longing. it’s just stays in my heart, and it won’t go away
Most kids are fussy with food at some point or another in their childhoods. I always tried to pretend that's what I was; "fussy". Except I took it to the extremes and would barely touch anything that didn't have a concrete certificate of approval, and even then the conditions had to be just right. My mum and dad were always brilliant and exotic eaters so it wasn't like I wasn't exposed to a vast culinary choice. I just could not bring myself to try new things, no matter how hard and tirelessly my parents tried. They took me to doctors and kept me off school to try and crack the problem. They tried being nice, they tried being harsh, shouting, pleading, every single trick in the book and beyond, but nothing anyone said could ever sway me to even hold new foods, let only taste them. I couldn't explain it, it just felt wrong. The very idea of putting anything new in my mouth overwhelmed me, like I might die. I truly would have rather gone hungry than just give something a go.
Just wanna put this out here into the universe for anyone who is super ignorant, unaware or just needs the validation themselves. I've heard a lot of people say things along this sort of line in my life and just wanna say it's bullshit and really harmful for suffers. Keeping them from seeking help for longer, and just generally making them feel terrible about themselves.
When I was younger I would always be nervous. Nervous to talk to new people, nervous to ask questions to my teachers, and even too nervous to talk to my own friends. There was always that thought in the back of my mind telling me that if I talk they won’t like me or they will leave me. I had a good childhood. I got good grades, I was becoming healthy after dealing with asthma attacks every night and being in the hospital for months at a time, and I was making friends. When I reached 4th grade I started becoming sad. Sad for no apparent reason. As a 9 year old I didn’t know what was happening. I started becoming distant with everyone and that’s when I met my best friend to this day. She had this energy to her that I looked up to. She was smart, beautiful, and kind. I wanted to be that, to have that. We became close friends and did everything together until 5th grade. In fifth grade I started becoming more timid about my body. I was always small and underweight yet I saw myself as being too big. I started eating less at the ripe age of 10. No one noticed. No one. I started becoming smaller and smaller and when people told me that I’ve lost weight and that I looked good my mind feasted on those comments. I loved them. People telling me I was becoming skinny. To begin I was short and underweight but I just kept losing weight. I started becoming depressed as problems started occurring with my sister. She started getting in trouble with the law and I didn’t see her often. My parents would always be mad or just tense. I started cutting. I at age 10 started hurting myself. It was a way to feel something. I was numb. I just wanted some type of emotion and wether that be happiness or pain I needed something. I was hurting and no one noticed. Summer shorts and tees became pants and long sleeves in a matter of days. It took people 4 years to notice anything was actually wrong. No one noticed not even my parents. The people that raised me and I spend most of my time with didn’t even notice. When my parents found out I got taken to the hospital because I started fainting constantly from hunger. They had me hospitalized, I was dehydrated, my heart was off, my kidneys were releasing to much protein, and All my electrolytes were off. I was .4 off from having a heart attack. All because I would not eat. I saw myself as fat. I was 42 pounds and I was 5’2. I was supposed to be at 115 pounds at least. I refused to eat so they decided to put a tube through my nose to feed me. I refused it and ripped it out. I stayed in the hospital for 2 weeks and then got sent to a residential facility. I was supposed to stay in the facility for 5 months. I stayed for 3 weeks. I got kicked out because my blood sugar got too low. I started eating but after 3 weeks I gave up. I stopped eating and they sent me to the hospital. I was there for 3 more weeks. I got tubed twice in that time. I got sent to Californian. I was sent to a facility where they could take me with a tube because every facility in the east and north refused to accept me because of how bad it was. Then after a few months I came back home. I was finally reunited with my family. I was doing online school but decided to go back to public school to be with my friends. I was exited. I met this guy. He was the sweetest person. After half a year of knowing him we began to date. He treated me like a princess. He didn’t know about my past. A friend of mine decided to tell him against my day. He started becoming more aware and that didn’t change how he felt. He wanted to help me get better. Which I’ve been. I am not close to 80 pounds and happier than I have been. I learned not to give up. Things will get better. One day things will get better. It might not be now, in a day, or even in a month but things will get better. Since I was in 5th grade I’ve wanted to give up and I tried but I always had hope. That hope led me to a better and happier life.
Bulimia and binge-eating disorders can be potentially life-threatening or life-limiting for anyone caught in the grips of the disease. People who binge-eat lose control of what and how much they eat and the intervals they leave between meals. This can lead to purging by excessive exercise, use of laxatives and diuretics and forced vomiting. 
Okay the other day was the first time I have made anything with gluten free sliced bread. (Recipe on my profile) Bread has always been a favorite of mine and I was scared to try gluten free bread in worry some that it would send me into a binge eating cycle or make me fall back from my diet causing me to eat regular white gluten filled bread. And let’s be real, it’s pretty hard to go from red lobster biscuits, to gluten free. I am happy to say I only ate 1 piece of toast though! Lets talk about that because this is definitely huge for me and hasn’t been that easy if I’m honest.
There are an estimated amount of 30 million people in the U.S. alone that suffer from an eating disorder. Approximately every hour, someone will die as a direct result. In the general population, there will be one person for every one hundred people to have some form of this mental illness. For dancers, it’s one for every five. Let that settle in your mind; that’s a whopping 20% of our dance community that deals with an eating disorder.
"Okay. Today's going to be a good day. You're going to be strong. You’re not going to eat," I tell myself as I stand in front of the mirror in my underwear. I turn left. I turn right. I twist my knees in to make my thighs look farther apart. I count my ribs, wishing I could see them all outlined against my skin without having to suck in my gut. I grab my upper arm, measuring how far around my hand can clasp.
There are two people inside of me.
This isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. People tell me to just be more active. To change my diet. Go to the gym. Work out. It isn’t that simple. It is never that simple.