Anorexia by Jenna Marie (grave mercy txt) 📖

“Not bad?!” she shouts. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You’re a skeleton!”

“No I’m not,” I say calmly. “All I’ve done is lost some weight. And my hips are still a little big . . .”

“Sweetie, you’re a twig! Don’t you see the problem?” Mom runs her hand back through her hair. “Grab you things right now. We’re going home so I can get you help!”

An hour later, after a silent car ride, we get home. Mom is the first one out of the car, and the first one inside. She immediately picks up the phone and dials a number. From what I overhear, it sounds like she’s talking to my doctor. She hangs up and dials another number. I hear her say that I “will be there tomorrow”. She puts the phone down and faces me.

“What did you do to yourself?” she asks breathlessly. “Did you starve yourself?”

“No, Mom, I ate fruit.”

“Is that all you ate?” I nod. “For how long?”

“A while, I don’t know. Who were you on the phone with?”

“A therapist who claims she’ll fix you. You’re going to the hospital tomorrow to meet her.”

“Why?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE ANOREXIC,” she shouts.

Dr. Kelly has been pretty nice to me for the month I’ve known her. My only reason to hate her, though, is because she’s been forcing me to eat in front of her. And she’s feeding me large helpings of food, too. I used to refuse to eat it. I knew it would make me gain weight, and I didn’t want that. But finally, I took a few bites.

I hated myself for giving in. And I hated Dr. Kelly. I hated my mom, too; and Dad for not stopping Mom from sending me here.

I’ve been living in the hospital under close watch since Mom found weight loss pills hidden in my sock drawer. She yelled at me so much that day that I was the one who suggested I stay at the hospital. I wanted to get away from her. All she’d do was shout at me; yell at me until I ate the food she put on the table. And she’d tell me that it’s my fault this happened and I “shouldn’t be putting her through this” and “should have been more careful” and “shouldn’t have been so selfish”.

Dr. Kelly weighs me every day now and records it, but won’t let me see the number. I know I’m gaining a lot of weight, though.

She’s also been teaching me how to eat correctly again. In the beginning, I wasn’t happy in the hospital. But as I learn more about having anorexia, I’m glad Mom got me help. She could have just let me waste away. She could have let me die. But she didn’t.

And I’ve started attending group therapy, which isn’t actually as bad as it sounds. Turns out, I also have an anxiety disorder (which had played a large part in my anorexia) so I’m getting treated for that, too.

By the end of August, I was allowed to go home. Dr. Kelly taught Mom and Dad how to work with me, how much to feed me and when, and what signs to look for in case I return to my old ways. And I have to go back to the hospital every weekend for an annual checkup.

Mom doesn’t yell at me anymore. I still attend group therapy, and I’ve made friends with the six people there. I’ve learned that being thin doesn’t mean you’ll be more popular, or prettier. Sometimes it just means you’re down right unhealthy. And that’s what I was, and didn’t know it all year.

Amy and Bryan called me the other day. They’re still together. Both of them are glad to hear that I’m getting help. They came to visit me, too.

I’ve started to willingly eat the right amount of food, without anyone having to direct me to do so. I know how many calories I need each day, and how I can get them. Mom, Dad, and Dr. Kelly still keep a close watch on me, though. But I’m glad to have their help because I know I can only get better.

Images: Google and stylefrizz.com
Publication Date: 10-27-2013

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