Reflection

Glaring at my reflection in the mirror I heard a faint whisper, "Skip a few meals and the weight will come off." I was not familiar with this voice, yet it sounded like a friend. She told me she knew secrets, and I was honored that she would share them with me. It wasn’t until much later that I learned her name—Ana (anorexia).

The relationship began with Ana suggesting I lose a few pounds. Ana taught me games and quietly convinced me to try her tricks, promising great rewards. I had no idea the road Ana would lead me down or the destruction she would cause to my life. I felt like Alice In Wonderland in Through the Looking Glass—confused as to what was real and what was imaginary. Ana helped me believe I could become master of my weight and my emotions. Feeling out of control, I turned to Ana for comfort, control, and to escape from feeling. The more I listened the less I began to recognize my own voice.

Ana allowed me to focus on my appearance, instead of the disarray and stress around me. Slowly, I became less hungry and less in touch with my feelings. Looking in the mirror she would demand, "not enought… just a little more." One morning I glanced in the mirror and was shocked at the skeleton staring back at me. The looking glass was changing, and I started to see the "real" me. My parents found out and immediately admitted me to a hospital.

I didn’t realize how deeply attached to Ana I was until this time. Locked up in a hospital I tried to stay away. I worked through my issues and tried to end our relationship but her voice grew louder and was all I could hear. Once discharged, I tried to live life, but quickly, the stresses consumed me again. I choked down as many pills that I could possibly swallow, praying to God, "Please forgive me. I just can’t fight this anymore." Then I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit with doctors shoving charcoal down my throat. From the corner of the room I could hear Ana laughing at me.

It took hitting rock bottom for me to wake up. Lying in that hospital room all alone, I was forced to face my addiction. I got a second chance—not everyone does. It was time to give life a try without Ana. I had never really opened the tool box that treatment provided me. I knew life had to be better than this, better than spending every moment consumed with Ana’s games. I had choices—try death again —or try life without Ana. I opened the toolbox and began, for the first time, to fight Ana.

One day at a time I worked to end our relationship. I repeated the words, "Ana—Not an option." She tempted me often, but finally I knew better. The road to recovery was very difficult, but every day I fought led me one step further away.

Our thorns can become our gifts. The strengths and abilities that kept me in the pit of my eating disorder were the strongest allies in my fight towards freedom. My stubbornness, drive, and obsessive behaviors—once turned around —helped me fight Ana. For me, the key to my recovery was first hating Ana, then giving up control to my higher power, and choosing life no matter how I "felt." Other tools critical to my recovery were:

• A relationship with God—daily surrendering the controls
• A therapist I trusted who understood eating disorders
• Friends who offered honest relationships
• An eating disorders support group
• A church/spiritual community

Abstaining from anorexic behaviors was a moment by moment struggle, but the more I began to experience life, the more I realized Ana had lied to me. Recovery offered me feelings again; I remember laughing and crying for the first time in years. I began to have real, honest relationships, I was able to live without thinking about food all the time, I began to live, and slowly her voice began to fade.

I stand in front of the mirror and look at the reflection I see now, weathered by life—but real. I hear a voice, but now it’s my own voice.

"I am real!" said Alice, and began to cry.