eating disorder treatment

‘I’ve never been a confident person, you know that all too well. That’s why you chose me to be your next victim that fateful night.’: Woman pens letter to her eating disorder, ‘I’m not keeping you a secret anymore’

“You’ve never really listened to me before, so maybe telling you all of this stuff is pointless. Maybe you’re not even listening now. Even if you are, it’s not like you’re going to feel sorry for me after everything you’ve put me through.”

‘Why would you do this to yourself? This is just bizarre.’ It’s hard to look in the mirror and see the damage I’ve done.’: Woman shares her history of self-mutilation and bulimia

“Sometimes I’d hit a vein and the blood would shoot out in an arc, creating stripes across the mirror and pouring into the sink. I was cutting away everything seemingly imperfect. Pulling out little threads which turned out to be nerves, partially paralyzing my lower lip and bits of my chin. I still didn’t stop.”

‘My mom said, ‘You have to leave. I’ll kill myself if you stay in this house with us.’ I was given one week.’: Woman overcomes neglect, eating disorder, ‘I wake up every day and choose recovery’

“When I had my first period, I felt I was confessing to a huge crime. I asked her, ‘Why?’ She simply said, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ I moved into a rundown bed where nobody spoke English. There was no lock on the front door and I frequently saw and heard people doing drugs on the roof of my bedroom.”

‘I wouldn’t use Chapstick. I was afraid I might lick my lips and accidentally swallow some of it, convinced it would make me fat.’: Woman suffering eating disorder is admitted to recovery center, ‘We aren’t treated like people. We were treated like patients’

“All doors were alarmed, and I was surrounded by strangers. My identical twin made me a blanket to take to treatment. She wanted me to feel at home. The staff wouldn’t allow me to have it. Since I was still on Red level, I wasn’t allowed into my bedroom. I sat on the floor in the hallway by my room and cried to my mom on the phone, begging her to bring me home. As I cried on the floor, a patient walked up to me and handed me a little slip of paper. He had written ‘You can do this’ on a scrap of paper. I sobbed. I still have his note.”

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