Sara's Story	Anorexia Nervosa	Michigan

I guess it all started with me just being conscious of not getting too much fat. I didn't avoid high fat foods altogether, just a healthy awareness that too much fat wasn't good for me. I also began exercising a few times a week because I knew physical fitness was important. At that time I was undergoing a lot of changes. All the baby fat that I had stored preparing for puberty and sexual maturity had redistributed and reproportioned. I stretched like a rubberband and grew taller. Many people came up to me and commented that I had lost weight. What had really happened was that I'd grown taller. I had turned something healthy into something obsessive. As the year progressed I avoided more and more fatty foods and began to exercise more and more. There were also a lot of changes going on in my personal life. I felt like mom's decisions always could overpower me and like she didn't let me make enough of my own choices. It was a hard school year, adjusting to six different teachers and homework. We went after school to a baby-sitter's house and usually didn't get picked up till six or six thirty. I felt like we were always in a rush and out of control. Mom was always late and that was another thing that made me feel out of control. I would walk to my baby-sitter's house, start and finish my homework, and wait for my mom to pick me up. When I got home I did my usual half an hour of exercise a day. Then I ate dinner with my family and tried to avoid the really fattening foods. After dinner I tried to relax. I even had some good old fashioned junk food once in awhile. Everyone deserves a treat once in awhile. But, the more out of control I felt, the more I obsessed about my appearance. I looked in the mirror every time I went to the bathroom and made sure my stomach didn't stick out and that I was thin. It continued to get more and more obsessive as time progressed. We lived in Brighton and my mom drove us to school every day. We were building a new house in Hartland. That took a lot of time. I would feel really bad about myself if I missed an exercising time. I knew I needed to exercise in order to be healthy and when we just couldn't get home in time I felt out of control and I panicked. We were always rushing back and forth to the model, to Brighton, to Hartland, to basketball practice and home. My mom and I had less and less time together. We were always rushing home, gulping down our dinners, and rushing back out to our activities that night. We had something going almost every night. We never had any time to catch our breaths. I was in a ballet class and my teacher was really strict. She always looked at what we did wrong or what we could improve. She never looked at the positives or what we were doing right. I always felt I was a horrible ballerina and could never live up to my teacher's standards. Many nights, after class, I would come home crying and very upset. I would always hide it because I was afraid if I let it show I would be a wimp and I couldn't be good enough or live up to my expectations of myself. I also am a perfectionist. I strive to do everything perfectly. I was always one of the top students in my class. It was something I expected from myself and if I didn't live up to my expectations I was a failure. If I got a B, I thought everyone, my teachers, my parents, the other kids, including myself would be disappointed in me. Pretty soon, I started cutting out more and more fat, only about ten to fifteen grams a day. I started running when I got home also. I started to lose weight and my mom got worried. She mentioned it to my doctor when I was in sick with Bronchitis. I was weighed at that time and I weighed 80 pounds. From there it just went downward. I felt out of control of my life. I was always rushing out the door, never feeling on top of things. I was beginning to feel more tired and like I needed a break. We kept pressing on with our unhealthy lifestyle. We never did anything to relax. It was always rush, rush, rush. I dealt with that stress through dieting and exercise. It was a big control issue because I didn't feel that I had control anywhere else in my life. I was also having a tough time at school feeling like I fit in. I had to be perfect, one of the thinnest. I continued running and cutting out more fat. I was losing more weight and my mom got more worried. She said she was going to take over. Oh no, not the only thing I had control over in my life! I wasn't going to let go. I was going to fight tooth and nail . I was going to prove to the world this is my body, my life, and no one was going to take that away from me. My mom started forcing me to drink three glasses of whole milk and eat two tablespoons of peanut butter every day. She still let me run a half an hour a day, but, for every extra half- hour of exercise I had to eat another tablespoon of peanut butter and whole milk. I wouldn't be in control anymore. I wouldn't prove to the world that I could do it. Even though I felt like a prisoner forced to inject my body with horrible fat grams, my body wanted more. My skin was getting so dry and scaly from the lack of oil in my diet and the bottoms of my feet turned a greenish yellowish color. I also started getting constipated from lack of fat in my diet. Those signs were accomplishments to me because, it meant I was still in control. It was also on the way to perfectionism because I had to be the thinnest, eat the least amount of fat, be the strongest and most fit. I just couldn't give in and eat those horrible fat grams. If I did I would loose all my control and be a failure. I wouldn't be the thinnest, the best, the most fit, the strongest, what I thought was "the best athlete" or the one who could eat the least amount of fat. It was almost like I was in a contest with myself. Even though my family and my doctor tried to tell me I needed fat I couldn't believe them. Too much fat was bad so I was going to be perfect, the best and not get any fat. I just avoided all fat. I didn't obsess about calories yet it was just the fat. I didn't consider calories bad. It wasn't until I learned that a calorie is a calorie no matter if it is from fats, carbohydrates, or proteins that I started obsessing about calories. I began to sneak around at breakfast and try to get out of the whole milk and peanut butter. Lunch was easy because I was at school. I just threw out all the foods with fat. There was no way I was going to get out of dinner though. Mom was watching. I would just have to burn those calories and fat grams off by running. I exercised constantly. By that time it was softball season. After practice I would run a half-hour, do my stretches, and sometimes rollerblade. You would think my grades would be slipping because of the time consumed by exercising, driving back and forth to Brighton and Hartland, building a house and worrying about how I was going to get out of eating. Not my grades! I had to be the best or I was a failure. I still maintained my A average. I was also in a 7th grade honors math class. I also made myself read the Bible every day because I felt I owed it to God to be the best Christian. When I read the Bible I don't think I got a lot out of it because I was doing it for the wrong reason. During my eating disorder I was growing farther apart from God. I still read the Bible today but my motivations are totally refocused. I really enjoy reading the Bible. It gives me great comfort and faith. I love to feel the Father's love and it is so amazing that he was willing to give his son to die for us! Another reason I was growing farther from God was because I felt he was mad at me. I was always lying and if I stopped lying I would have to eat the fat. I couldn't do that. I fought to gain control. The more I controlled how much I ate and exercised the less control I really had. My eating disorder was controlling me and I couldn't give up. I was never quite good enough to live up to my standards. If I did meet one of my goals I would never take the time to stop and pat myself on the back. Realizing your accomplishments is very important. I always expected more. I was always stressed and worried. How was I going to get this done? I have to exercise. I can't eat that it will ruin everything. If I did eat that I'll have to exercise more and where will I find the time. At softball games I ran constantly in the fields. I felt like such a weirdo and I knew the girls on my team thought I was a little strange for always running in place. I continued to lose weight and live in this stressful, unhealthy lifestyle. I wouldn't even consider any other options. When people told me I looked thin I wasn't thin enough. I wasn't getting enough sleep and was edgy and withdrawn. I was always snippy because of the stress and constant worry. It kept getting worse and worse because my mom monitored me more and forced me to eat. So then I had to exercise more. I felt so out of control. The more I felt that way the more I tried to control things. Mom was taking over. Panic, frustration, desperation. I had to keep going. I wasn't going to give in, not yet anyway. Finally, my mom realized that we had a definite problem that she couldn't fix. She couldn't go on fighting with me anymore. She called and set-up an appointment with a psychiatrist. We couldn't get in for about three weeks. By this time my mom had cut out my running altogether. I would run in my room and tell my mom she couldn't come in I was working on a project. At this point was so physically, mentally exhausted and worn out by stress, constant worry, not getting enough nutrients, and over-exercising. A little part of me just wanted someone to take over and nurture me like a little kid. A little part of me just wanted someone to tell me what to eat so I wouldn't have to worry. But I refused to give up. I had to have control. I was going to fight. School let out and that was a break for me because my grades didn't have to be perfect. Day camp started. One morning I refused to drink the whole milk and eat the peanut butter. I was too afraid of it. I was too exhausted to worry about how I was going to burn it. I just couldn't do it any longer. My mom finally said she was going to take me to the hospital to get a medical evaluation. I weight sixty-nine pounds. I stayed in the hospital overnight. I had a hard time eating the food even though I told myself I needed it. My stomach was so shrunken it was hard for me to eat all the food. I felt like I was going to bust after just eating a small meal. I met with a nutritionist who helped me set up a 1500 calorie diet to follow until I got hooked up with a permanent nutritionist and counselor. When I got out of the hospital I continued the 1500 for a while but from there I just went downward. Once I had cut out all the fat I still wouldn't give up my control and my perfectionism. I still strove to be perfect so I started to cut out the calories. I found numerous ways to get out of eating. While I was forced to drink whole milk my family was drinking 2%. I poured the whole milk in the 2% carton and the 2% milk in the whole carton and while nobody was looking. I poured milk and nutritional supplements down the drain and outside. I hated myself because I felt like I was manipulating my mom's time and money. I felt so horrible and I was convinced God and my family hated me for lying. I still couldn't let go and I was trapped in a downward spiral. I didn't know what to do. All I could think about was calories and exercising. I always felt fat and like I wasn't good enough. I felt like everyone was closing in on me and trying to make me eat. I wanted the control and they wouldn't let me have it. My heart wanted me to be healthy and I wanted to eat and live happily. The disease was controlling me. I felt like I was the only one in the whole world going through this and that something was wrong with me. The worst thing I felt was that my mom, my family, and God were disappointed in me. My mom checked out a place in Ann Arbor called the Eden Club, Eating Disorder and Exercise Network. The women there played an important part in my recovery. They have always been there when I needed them the most. They've shown me I can be healthy and live happily. I don't have to use anorexia as my vent. They have supported me and tried to help me through everything. Faye, my nutritionist has taught me all about nutrition and now I am an expert. I talked to a lot of the girls there and what they went through and that helped to know that I wasn't the only one struggling. Finally I realized I couldn't live this way anymore. I didn't want to live this way anymore. I wanted to get better for me. I wanted to learn how to deal with my stress in other ways. It was the hardest decision I have ever made in my whole life. Giving up the control and perfection was and is so hard and scary. I did it gradually, proving to myself I didn't need the control and I didn't have to be perfect to be happy and who I wanted to be. My counselor Gretchen helped me work on my self-esteem and loving myself for who I am. She helped me find other ways to deal with my stress. She is helping me work on some obsessive tendencies that I need to change. She has really helped me discover who I am and what I want to accomplish in life. I am developing a whole new relationship with food. I no longer have to dread it or define it as bad because really no food is bad or forbidden. It's the combinations one puts together and how one eats over a period of time that counts. I am still in the process though. There are some foods that still scare me. I have developed a whole new relationship with exercise also. I exercise now because it is something I enjoy not something I have to do to burn calories or punish myself. Exercise relaxes me. My mom and the rest of my family have supported me through anorexia and I couldn't have done it without them. They have been so loving, caring, understanding, and supportive. I really love them for it. I am now closer to my mom and she has given me some of my own independence. My dad and I are also pretty close. My sister and I are as close as sisters can get. Now I know I can have healthy control in my life without starving myself. I still have to work on some control issues and giving up some of the control I still wrap around food. I still measure out some of my food and still count calories and fat grams. I have made and am making a lot of progress on those issues though. I have many things I have to work on, especially my perfectionism. I have been working so hard to deal with it and have come a long way. I still think I will strive to do my best at things even though I am not obsessing that I always have to be number one. I have started to conquer a big disease and I am going to show myself and others it is not bigger than I am. I have to show myself and recover for myself. I can't do it just to please others. It's about Sarah and who I am and who I am going to become. I am slowly gaining about 3/4 of a pound a week and am up to 72 pounds. I am at 1900 calories and 22.5 grams of fat a day. I am gradually adding every week and proving to myself that it's okay and that the fat and calories are okay. My body really does need them. I am up to a healthy calorie amount and close to a healthy fat amount but I am going to have to eat more so I can get back up to a healthy weight. I want to run track in the spring and when I get up to 75 pounds I am going to start running again because that is something I really enjoy. Right now I go for walks and do some stretches to build muscle. A hard thing for me to tackle is eating in restaurants. I don't know what's in the food and exactly how many calories are in it. My nutritionist helps me figure out about how many calories are in certain foods and I am proving to myself that if I get five extra calories it is really not going to matter. A few months ago I was terrified of getting even one extra calorie but now I know that it's all right. Healthy eating is not an exact amount of calories. It is sometimes overeating, sometimes undereating. It's eating when you are hungry and stopping when you are full. I am really working on going out to eat. A couple of weeks ago was my first time out to eat since this whole thing got started. So far I have been out to eat two times. I am getting more and more flexible as time goes on and have begun to add variety to my diet. I have done a lot of hard work and for the first time, in a long time, I am proud of myself and love myself for who I am. Anorexia is so hard and scary. I would hate to see any girl go through it. I have learned so much about myself. I am ready to move on in my life and become a healthy, successful individual with goals and accomplishments, and maybe I can help others by what I've learned. Sarah Heddon