I'm getting girls to tell their story, to talk publicly about something they went through and that changed their lives forever. I am asking them to speak, to talk about it and explain it and therefore, it's my turn to talk about it as well. It's my turn to tell my story.
I would like to talk about the anorexia that I experienced and what it feels like to go through it. Since the day I was diagnosed by my paediatrician, the number of doctors I went to multiplying by four. I went from going to the pediatrician twice a year to going to the Endocrinologist, Nutritionist, Psychiatrist and Psychologist every two weeks, I had a doctors appointment weekly, I missed some of my classes and lost endless hours in waiting rooms. During these appointments I wad weighed, measured and talked to, they talked a lot about why I couldn't continue like this, they talked about the fat that my body lacked to function, they talked about the foods that we were going to progressively add to my menu so I could loose my fear of them, they talked about the things that had given me a hard time in the past and that could be a cause of my illness and we talked about myself, over and over and over again.
Even though all these doctors tried to cure me, although they tried helping me recover, getting out of this depended on me and I wasn't able to do it. There were days when I did realise that I was malnourished and I was aware that I needed to eat something more, but there were also worse days when panic attacks, anxiety and obsessive control took over and I stopped eating. I started eating and as I was now able to think clearly, little by little the worst days began to become less frequent until, suddenly, I relapsed. I was losing the weight I had managed to gain, I was having panic attacks again, I was irritable again, and I became exhausted just by climbing stairs. Then I would get over it again, recover something and nourish myself with the minimum that I needed. The relapses were constant, sometimes every month, sometimes every week, but they always came back and it got to the point where I didn't see what to fight for, I didn't think I could continue with this much longer, I felt bad and everything hurt but at least Anorexia gave me a sense of stability, it was something I had and that depended on me. The moment came when I gave up, I stopped eating because I was exhausted from having to fight, I believed that I would never get out of this illness and I didn't want to live with it for the rest of my life. This illness kills people and like all those who suffer from it, anorexia could have killed me.
I am thankful every day that it didn't end that way. I am grateful that I managed to learn the meaning of life in time and that helped me realise how happy I am living. I want to live my life and I don't want to live it with anorexia, that's why I put my health before my thoughts. Now I'm better and, even though there are still days when I don't feel like eating, even though there are very bad days that very few people know about, on those days I know that I have to do a little more on my side and, this way, the next one will be better. You have to accept feeling bad because mental illnesses are not something that goes away with a simple pill, but they are not something that makes us different from other girls either. Anorexia is something we go through just like the rest go through other illnesses, this is ours.
