AMEE GRONCZEWSKI

            “...Anorexia nervosa; your hair will start falling out, your nails will turn yellow, and you will die.”

            As I listened to the physician sitting across from me say those words, it seemed as if I were experiencing something surreal. I hadn’t even been paying attention to whatever he was saying before that because I thought, “This doctor has no idea what he’s talking about. He doesn’t know that this is just my way of losing some weight for the summer.”

             However, upon hearing that medical term, anorexia nervosa, something inside me clicked. Was I really sick? Was I really about to become part of the 1% of Americans that this disease affects? Yes, I was now a statistic. A middle-class, barely teenaged girl, with an eating disorder.

            I contemplated my life before entering such a serious chapter of my existence. To this day I’m not exactly sure how or why I developed the unhealthy habits that ultimately led to a serious diagnosis. I concluded that it was a compilation of self-esteem issues I dealt with during elementary school.

             I was always one of the tallest kids in my grade, and one of the biggest, as pointed out by my classmates. Obviously I was just maturing at a faster rate, but how could I explain puberty to a bunch of pre-pubescents? The fact that I was bigger than most of my classmates was evident to me and as a result, I became self-conscious and obsessed with my appearance.

            Being the extremely computer-savvy 12-year-old that I was, I decided to use the Internet to aid me in my dieting endeavors. What I stumbled upon hurled me full-force into the downward spiral of a serious disease. “Lose 20 pounds in one month. I did!!” read the subject of the message board. I proceeded to read the tricks and tips of girls from all over the country who prided themselves on being successful in losing weight. After reading this post, along with many others, I felt extremely empowered and motivated that I could rid myself of the disgusting fat that was keeping me from perfection. “Thank you, God!” I cried, sure that my days of feeling insecure were over.

            Just as fast as I was thanking God for sending me a “miracle diet,” I found myself condemning him, asking why he allowed me to fall victim to such a deadly disorder. I found myself out of control, using unhealthy tactics aided by potentially dangerous substances to keep dropping pounds.

            By the middle my eighth grade year, I was noticeably 20 pounds lighter. The compliments that I received from the same classmates who ridiculed me seemed to make being hungry and miserable all the time worthwhile. However, with the compliments came concerns – from my parents, friends, teachers, and the school nurse. Eventually I lost too much weight and was forced to see a specialist. My doctor did a lot of talking while I did a lot of daydreaming. I suppose he knew I was unaware of the long term affects of anorexia. He let me know that my heart could fail, and I could drop dead at any given moment if I proceeded to get any thinner.

            During my recovery, I woke up and tuned into the real world, not the fantasy world of perfection I was living in where people were stick-thin and carefree. I was viewing the world in terms of fat and thin. I realized I am living in America, the land of opportunity and abundance. People live in nations where food is so scarce, and I was just taking food for granted. Now when I look back at this confusing time in my childhood, two contradicting thoughts run through my mind: “I was being so selfish and ridiculous, spending time obsessing about something unattainable...” and “I wish I could go back to this state of mind.” I managed to avoid the latter and concentrate on making a full recovery.

            I’ve recognized that I went to doctors and attended therapy sessions because I have a family that cares about me. Some people grow up without any sense of belonging. After these realizations, I stopped being so angry and self-absorbed. Perfection is unattainable. I will never have a healthy relationship with food or my body, but it’s getting better. I came out of this with a positively altered outlook on my own life and the world around me. Everything is a learning experience, and I feel nothing should be takenfor granted.