by AMANDA DALLIMORE
I am 27 now, but I was first diagnosed with anorexia at 16, after starting a diet at 14. I think I am going to be stuck this way forever, I’ve had it nearly half my life and I can’t remember life without it. Every day since I was 16 has been ruled by food and exercise and weight. It’s my first thought when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed.
Every time I get dressed, try on clothes or look in the mirror I am reminded of it and confronted with feelings of not being good enough. For ten freaking years there has been a voice in my head (she sits in the front right of my forehead) bullying me and dictating my every move. I traveled the world trying to escape it but she followed me everywhere I went. I went to the most amazing cities and all I can remember is what I did or didn’t eat.
There were moments where I thought it was going to kill me, and often I just wished it would so I could escape the hell that I was trapped in. But that would be an easy out and anorexia is too cruel, instead I must suffer with my thoughts and feelings of self-hatred. I would lie awake at night in pain, from hunger and the cold, praying that when I stood on the scales the next morning they would be down.
I can’t tell you the rush I’d get from seeing that number go down. It was the same feeling I’d get when I’d feel hungry or dizzy, as this would mean I was winning. Similarly, when I’d manage to skip a meal or hide my food I’d get a rush, a high, I was in control, I was beating them all. My competitive nature and desire for perfection only fueled the disease.