Amanda Doulos is a digital editor for Love What Matters based in New York City. She will graduate from Binghamton University with a Bachelor of English Literature and Spanish in Spring 2023. She loves staying involved as vice president of the mock trial team and secretary of Spanish Honor Society. In her free time, she loves reading, traveling, and spending time with friends.
“I was a walking skeleton. I was ashamed to show him my body. He took me to the gym, but only under one condition — I would eat.”
“I thought I could fly away from my eating disorder. Maybe, just maybe, I would step off the plane and the anorexia would run. But instead, the very opposite happened. I came as close as I ever had been to my eating disorder, face-to-face, and I felt my world crumble.”
“I lost the ability to walk; I couldn’t stand more than 10 minutes without passing out. I couldn’t eat without severe pain, and my brain felt like it was constantly trying to come out of my eyes. My body found new levels of fatigue, leaving me bedridden most days. The day I brought Violet home, I had no idea the potential contained in this little ball of energy.”
“I don’t remember what the train of thought was before that, or what exact situation led to that epiphany, but I remember smiling because deep down I already knew. Life genuinely started to make more sense.”
“I hated the idea someone could walk into my children’s lives and automatically gain their love. They’d run up to her, give her kisses, and tell her they loved her. Honestly, my heart broke every time. I had no idea what boundaries should be in place or what steps were best for the children. There was no handbook for co-parenting, and I was desperately grasping at straws.”
“The paper read, ‘It is in my professional opinion that you satisfy the diagnostic criteria.’ I lose a huge piece of myself, and found an answer to all my questions, all at once.”
“I was the one who stayed out late, the one who always turned up. But I was also the one who had blackouts, who got hit by a car, forgot whole blocks of time, and always had something to be ashamed or embarrassed about the next day. That day in my living room was the last day I drank.”
“I had visions of three beautiful girls dancing throughout my house. Two big sisters meeting their little sister in the hospital. Everything I ever hoped and dreamed for crashed to the ground.”
“I woke to find my husband blue in our bed with his left arm dangling off the side. My legs immediately felt as if they were made of concrete, and I could not stop screaming.”
“When Mitchell got the bottle out of the cabinet, I froze. What if we give her too much and she overdoses and dies? I was terrified of giving her Tylenol, and broke down in tears as my baby wailed in pain. I felt too paralyzed by my own horrifying thoughts to do anything about it.”
