Life with ED: PART II

When I walked into my first day of seventh grade at my new school I was in shock. There I was, a small brown frizzy haired Jewish girl, staring at a mass of tall blonde haired blue eyed peers. I looked around searching for diversity in this homogenous bubble I had arrived in.

I had never had a difficult time making friends. In Boston, I was part of a tight pack of well-adjusted happy group of the cool kids, but here I didn't get invited to the "popular" lunch table, boys didn't notice me, and I felt really lonely. There were days I'd come home crying wanting to go back to the place I felt I belonged.

I started to rebel. I thought if I didnt talk to my parents, and started to fail my classes they'd have no choice but to move us back. The only outlet I felt I had was musical theatre-- a space I was special and good enough.

Finally, I started to make friends and fit in. Finally, I was invited to the lunch table I had been wanting to sit at. Finally, the boy I had a crush on liked me back. Finally, I felt like I really belonged.

When I came back from summer vacation, to my first day as a big eighth grader, the boy I had a crush on stopped talking to me. And with him went all the friends I had made. And with that came that dreadful loneliness I thought I had escaped.

I turned to my mom one day. I told her I felt fat. Matter of factly she told me "then just go on a diet." So I did. That was when I decided I was going to lose so much weight and look so good, that my old crush was bound to notice me again.

It began innocently, cutting out desserts, having an omlette instead of a bagel with butter. But it started to morph into something else entirely. I can't pinpoint exactly when things started to take a drastic turn, only that they did. I remember rotating between a bundle of grapes or soup broth for lunch. I remember thinking that a large carrot was an indulgence. I remember cutting an apple into a million pieces to last me longer. I remember hearing some one say I was so thin they could see through me--I took it as the deepest form of flattery. I remember peers and their parents complimenting me for my weight loss. I remember eating a whole loaf of bread with peanut butter and jelly, making my stomach ache and my heart feel like it was going to beat out of my chest. I knew something was wrong when I was so cold all the time--even in long sleeves in the California sun. I googled "why am I so cold ", and anorexia came up. But no, I thought, that could never be me.

It wasn't until I went to the doctor to get forms signed for sleep away camp, that things finally became real. She looked at me and asked me if I was sick. I was confused and said no. She took my heart rate, blood pressure, and weight. She sat me down with my dad and said: " You are anorexic and if you don't get help you are going to die very soon." I ran out of the room crying. That day I graduated eigth grade.