I Got Help.Well, this is my first time here, so here goes nothing. :) First off, I'm anorexic. Recovered, but the disorder still lingers with me. Here is my story of how this horrible disorder took over my life.
In the world of a small Nebraska town, if you have any talent whatsoever, you are expected to be in everything. In the beginning of my freshman year, I was 5'7 and 120 pounds. Happy, healthy, and with the world at my fingertips. As a high school freshman last year I was on varsity volleyball, a state qualifier in track, and a national qualifier in FBLA. Yet, I didn't feel good enough about myself and still felt like a failure. After volleyball season was complete, I wanted to 'stay in shape' for track. I spent hours on end in the gym and cut 'unhealthy' foods out of my meals.
As the months progressed, I cut more and more out of my diet until I was down to 100 calories a day at the beginning of track season. I had lost ten pounds of muscle and my weight had dwindled to 110, where it leveled off until the end of track. Once that concluded and this summer came around, I became committed to losing weight fast by whatever means possible. I was a lifeguard at the local pool and was going to be the skinniest girl there, no matter what the cost.
During that summer, I went through hell. Every day I would run miles, get through swim team practice, and then run some more until I felt like I was going to die. I fasted for four straight days on multiple occasions, even when volleyball conditioning came around again. Laxatives were for the days I ate over 200 calories. My hair was thinning out and my skin turned this weird purplish-grey color.
On the last day of volleyball conditioning, I stepped on the scale and read the number. 99. 99 pounds of not good enough and fat and imperfections and just grossness. No one knew the hell I went through to get there, and yet i was my lowest weight with anorexia. That same day my volleyball coach, who I credit with saving my life, took me aside at practice for a talk. He had me sit beside him on the bench and this is how the conversation went:
Coach- "What's going on? Something's up with you. Me and Coach **** (the assistant coach) have noticed that you have no balance at practice and always look like you're going to pass out. Your ball contact on hitting isn't even close to what it used to be and you just look weak. So, what's wrong?"
Me- "Nothing's wrong, Coach. I'm fine."
Coach- "No, you're not."
Me- "I'm fine"
Coach- "Look, I don't know what's the matter, if it's a schedule thing, lack of sleep, or not eating breakfast, or anything like that, but I want this to be a good year for you. Everyone does, and that just simply isn't going to happen if you don't fix this fast."
Me- "Coach, I'm okay. I go to bed by ten every night and my schedule's fine."
Coach- "Don't tell me that there's nothing wrong because there is. You look horrible, I can see your dizzy, and I've had girls come up to me worried about you. What is it?"
Me- "I don't know, Coach. I just don't know anymore." ( Verge of tears)
At this point, I stood up, and rejoined practice, almost in tears. The next day, at the varsity scrimmage, coach asked me what I had for breakfast this morning. I lied and said toast, but he could tell I was lying and walked off. He never talked to me about it again.
It was with the words he said to me I realized I had a problem. I joined support groups and started eating more. I flushed my laxatives down the toilet and ran less. Healing began. I still haven't told my parents about it, and I don't know if I ever will. I definitely want to tell Coach before next season starts. I will be a junior and leading the team, and I want him to know I am back. What do you think?