THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, September 10, 1995 TAG: 9509060069
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K7 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: REAL MOMENTS
SOURCE: BY KENNAN NEWBOLD, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 95 lines
FOUR YEARS AGO, I was much more likely to have been hit by a bolt of lightning than be caught eating a cookie. Four years ago, the thought of consuming a whole plate of spaghetti was enough to make me sick to my stomach. Four years ago, food scared me more than any horror movie ever could.
Four years ago, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa.
It wasn't until I declined my mother's offer of $50 to eat a McDonald's hamburger that I realized I had a problem. I knew I had lost a lot of weight during the end of my senior year in high school, but I never thought what I was doing was a problem.
I thought I looked pretty good in a size 2 prom dress. All the pretty girls were wearing size 2 prom dresses.
I'm not exactly sure when my diet became a sickness or when running became an obsession. All I know is that things started off slowly and then snowballed right after my senior prom.
I guess I could try to blame it all on my parents. After all, they are the ones who made me Catholic.
Lent, the six weeks before Easter when Catholics voluntarily sacrifice something of themselves for the upcoming holiday, is taken very seriously in my household. That year, my mother and I decided to give upsweets for Lent.
In an effort to somehow ``beat'' my mother, I not only denied myself all sweets, but slowly began to forgo food in general. By Easter, I had lost 20 pounds. People complimented me right and left on my awesome ``achievement,'' and suddenly, I felt like I had to lose more.
Easter came and went, but I didn't celebrate it as I had in the past. I threw away all the candy in my Easter basket and went for an extra long run instead. I went to bed early. It was only 7 p.m., but I was tired. I was tired a lot.
By the time the prom rolled around, my entire life had changed. I quit the soccer team because I didn't have the energy to run for three hours at practice. My boyfriend stopped calling because I was always in bed when he got home from his practice.
I never went to parties, never went out with my friends, never ate dinner with my family, and hardly ever cracked a smile.
I became obsessed with cooking. I'd spend hours in the kitchen preparing my favorite foods, elaborate dishes that I forced on my family. But I never cooked anything for myself. Instead, I took pleasure in watching others eat.
Each day was the same for me. I never once broke the routine I made for myself. I was afraid if I did, I would lose control of everything. And that's what I wanted, after all - control.
I woke up every morning at 6 a.m. with hunger pains. I'd always eat a bowl of cereal with skim milk. I never had orange juice, no matter how thirsty I was. That only meant extra calories. For lunch, I'd eat an apple and half a turkey sandwich. Mom would pack more, but I always threw it away.
When I got home from school, I'd immediately go running. I ran two miles. I always ate dinner before 5 p.m. (so it wouldn't turn to fat while I slept) and went to bed early. I never stayed awake long enough to say hi to Dad when he got home from work.
Not long before my senior prom, Mom took me to the doctor. My legs had lost all the muscle I had developed playing soccer. My ribs were visible through my chest, and my hip bones jutted out of my skin like knives. The veins in my hands looked enormous, and my cheeks were sunken. I hadn't had a menstrual period in four months.
That afternoon, Dr. Chun did his best to convince my mother to put me in the hospital. I was scared. I sat quietly listening to Dr. Chun tell me what I was doing to my body.
I stared at my hands when he told me my heart was a muscle and that it, too, was shrinking. I started crying when he told me I could die.
After that first visit with Dr. Chun, I had weekly visits with a nutritionist. My parents kept a very close eye on me. But after the first month, I still hadn't gained any weight. I was still scared of food, and ran every day. My mother begged and my father yelled, but I refused to comply with anyone's wishes but my own.
So they gave me an ultimatum. I could start eating again and go to college in the fall, or I could live at home with Mom and Dad until I got better.
So I forced myself to eat.
I left home that August to go to school. I had convinced Dr. Chun and my parents that I could make it on my own, having gained back a little of the weight I lost. But I had a difficult time that year. I still had anorexic tendencies and often dropped below the weight my doctor had prescribed. After one semester, I came back home. The control I once had over my body and my weight was gone. Anorexia had gained control of me.
That was four years ago. Today I am almost completely recovered. But I am one of the lucky ones. With help from my parents, I realized soon enough that I was destroying my body and ruining my life. The girl in the mirror wasn't a girl I liked or even knew anymore. Anorexia had changed me. It made me different. It left me alone.
I have returned to playing soccer and have gained back all my weight, but I still visit Dr. Chun. I need to. I'm not completely free of this disease yet. I can't eat a cookie without feeling a twinge of guilt, and I can't go two days without running at least three miles.
But I'm on the long road to recovery. Fat chance I'll ever turn back. by CNB