Anorexia Purge Type

Anorexia

I never intended for it to happen the way it did.

To put it simply,

I was a dancer.

Long legs.

Numbered ribs.

Protruding collar bones.

My mind was hypnotized by the bodies I watched move gracefully across a stage.

It started off as eating healthy.

1,000 calorie daily limit.

Then it was a diet.

500 calorie daily limit.

Next, an obsession with being thin.

200 calorie daily limit.

Forcing every particle of food out of my broken body.

Dancing 4-5 hours each night after school.

My self worth depended on the number looking up at me in the morning.

Even if I met a goal weight, there was always another one in line.

Lying was becoming easier and easier.

But I don’t know who I was lying to more; my family, doctors, and friends…or myself.

Everyone said ‘just eat’.

I was becoming dangerously thin.

My sister was living in Philly.

My mom was going through Chemo for Breast Cancer.

My dad was working extra hours.

I felt alone.

The hunger in my stomach was comforting.

It was a constant.

I needed stability.

I needed control.

I needed Anorexia.

What have I become?

I long for the little silver sliver of metal across the thin skin of my wrist.

I long for the bones that used to protrude through my chest.

I long for the days when I was in my disorder, shamefully lying to get what I wanted.

I long for the growling of my empty stomach after countless hours of starving myself.

I long for the secrets the lies, the tricks, everything that made up my disorder.

I long for my eating disorder to go back in full swing.

To engulf my every thought.

To make me happy.

Numbers

127.

A new plan to change.

125.

A new concern in my parent’s eyes.

120.

A new hair band to hide the bald spots.

117.

New ballet slippers to replace the ripped up ones from continuous wear.

113.

A new sports bra for the chest I didn’t have.

110.

A new black leotard for the illusion of being tinier.

109.

A new doctor to help get my ‘diet’ under control.

107.

New threats of being hospitalized becoming real this time.

103.

A new setting to live in while I work on restoring my weight.

128-133.

The way to get out of this place.

3,500.

The amount I needed to gain 3-5 pounds a week.

15.

When I wasn’t sure if I would be able to dance again without fainting.

16.

When I needed my first surgery to repair the damage I had done.

18.

When I needed my second surgery.

19.

Where I am at now.

150.

A new wardrobe to fit my ‘curvy’ body.

2018.

A new plan to change.