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Pocrescophobia: Fear of Gaining Weight
After four years of starving and over exercising, needles and feeding tubes, terror and anger, medical crises and personal failure, loss after loss. After
all this, I’m only 15 years old. I was staring down a path of a shortened life expectancy, but I was fine with that because I still had this: I was thin. I
was 5’6 and 73 pounds; 73 pounds too much. I wasn’t satisfied, I was never going to be satisfied. People would say “you’re too thin,” but that’s
what I liked; my bones, the empty stomach, the excessive exercising. I was sick, I was weak, and I was admitted to a hospital. After being hospitalized
for five months, I was sent to a treatment center where I’ve been for almost two years. On July 15th, 2009, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa.
However, along with anorexia, came self harm. I'm not sure why I did it. Maybe because I couldn't cope with everything that was going on inside of
me. Maybe because I thought it was my only way out. Maybe because that was the only thing that kept me from killing myself. I don't know. I
don't expect you to understand, I don't even understand. Many people say that self harm doesn't hurt, but really it does. It's just not as bad as the
pain you're feeling on the inside. Many people also don't understand why someone would purposely hurt themselves. And well, it's hard to
explain. There are many types of self harm: cutting, burning, scratching, biting, and so much more. I've done them all. There was a time when I
wouldn't wear shorts, tank tops, t-shirts, or even a swim suit. I eventually did again and I would notice people looking at me. You know, staring at
my arms, my legs, and my stomach. I was addicted by that point, so I didn't mind. I used to be really self conscious about my scars though, but
luckily for me most have faded.
Atelophobia : Fear of Imperfection
Over the past few years, everything in my life has changed. I've lost myself and who I was. Most people close to me have left, including my best
friend. My family has been slowly falling apart. I haven't been able to go to school for two years. But through all this, I've actually re-found
myself. I finally realized that I didn't want to kill myself. I wanted a life. A healthy life. A life where I could be trusted. A life where I could be a
normal teenage girl. A life where I could eat things without feeling guilty. That is when I finally started to really fight and really try to become better.
Not for anyone else, but for myself. I'm starting to like living. I try to follow my meal plan, I don't self harm, and I try not to over exercise. I'm still
in treatment and although some days are by far harder than others, I've finally reached the point where I've realized that I can't live with anorexia
the rest of my life. Either I beat anorexia or anorexia beats me. For what it's worth I'm Callie, I'm 15 years old, and I am much happier than I have
been for the past four years.
"Stories are for joining the past to the future. Stories are for those late hours in the night
when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for
eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember except the story."
Quite a few people have asked about my story.
Why I became anorexic, where it all started, and where I'm at now.
It's long, I'm shortening it, and I'm not forcing you to read it.
I don't remember a time when I wasn't insecure, self conscious, or having a high self esteem. It's just the way I've always been, probably the way I'll always be. Anyway, everything was normal. I was a normal girl, just like you. I had friends, I didn't care about much. Things suddenly changed. I didn't like eating in front of people. I stopped eating lunch at school. My friends would ask why I didn't eat. I would just tell them that I already ate (lies) or that I wasn't hungry (lies). I didn't see anything wrong with lying and I certainly didn't see anything wrong with not eating. I then got to the point where I wasn't hungry anymore and people stopped asking why I wasn't eating because it became "normal" for me. Soon after that, I stopped eating breakfast and dinner. I'd only eat dinner if we were having a family dinner, which was usually only on Sundays. Otherwise, I would tell my parents the same lies I told my friends. My life was a constant lie. I told lie after lie to both my parents and my friends, yet they all believed it. On a "good" day, I would eat less than 500 calories. On a "bad" day, I would eat no more than 700. I would exercise six hours a day, mainly at night or in the early morning so no one would be suspicious. If I ever ate more than 700 calories, I'd throw up even after exercising. I had no energy. When I wasn't exercising, I was sleeping. I had lost most of my friends, but it honestly didn't matter to me. Only one thing mattered to me and that was the number on the scale. I then became depressed and I started to self harm, everyday. One day, I told my best friend everything. She told my parents, but my parents shrugged it off because I told them that I was getting better and that it wasn't a big deal. I acted like I was getting better, it must have been believable. Nothing I did was good enough for myself. One night while exercising, I passed out. My parents found me and I was rushed to the hospital. I had a BMI of 11.8 (5'6, 73 pounds) and my organs were failing. I was told that if I had lost anymore weight, I would have been close to death (not that I cared, I already knew that.) I was then fed through a feeding tube for five months at the hospital. I was so sick. From there, I became an inpatient at my treatment center. Meaning, I lived there. My family could only visit me during visiting hours. I wasn't allowed to do anything because everything requires physical activity. They took away anything that could be used to self harm. I was supposed to eat 6 meals a day, but I refused each meal and continued to lose weight. So, I was put back on a feeding tube for a month. After that, I decided that I would do what they asked me to do just so I would be allowed to become a day patient and be at home so I could go back to my old ways (not eating, exercising, self harming, etc.) I had no intention of doing things right. I did that three times. Inpatient, day patient, and again back to inpatient. Three times. The third time I was allowed home, I attempted suicide by taking 20 pills. I collapsed to the ground and I was again rushed to the hospital. Then I became an inpatient again, fourth time. Currently, I'm a day patient.I relapsed. As of September 12th, I'm an inpatient again (fifth time.) I'm no longer a part of any treatment program at the moment. However, I was admitted to a psychiatric inpatient unit in Texas in the beginning of February. As of right now, things are going better than they ever have been for me. Anorexia is not who I am and I plan to continue moving forward instead of back for the first time in awhile. Although I don't like the way I look and I'm no where near close to loving my body, I have learned to accept it. I've realized that there are so many things that you take for granted until they're taken away from you. I don't expect any of you to think differently, I even took it for granted. Like lifting your head. Sounds odd, right? When I was at my sickest, I could barely lift my head in the morning. Or going to the bathroom without having someone stand outside to monitor you, being able to do physical activity, going to school (I wasn't able to go to school for more than two years, this year was my first year), being able to be with your family, being able to eat without worrying about calories, being able to be alone. I still want to be thin like I used to be, I still have eating disorder thoughts, and there's always that voice in my head that tells me to stop eating and to start over exercising again. Physically, I'm the healthiest I've been in awhile, although mentally it's still a constant struggle between what I want for myself and what I know I need for myself. I hope I can someday say "yes, I beat anorexia." We'll see. I hope that anyone who actually reads all this realizes that you can do anything no matter the circumstance. If you ever need to talk or have questions, feel free to ask... just please don't judge me.
Low weight: 73 Current weight: Not entirely sure, around 121? Goal weight: 130 :) Height: 5'8.5
"Asking for help isn't weak, it's wise." - Rev Run
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