This is my story
Behind the never-stoppable-smiling-face of mine and a pair of sweaters, hid the chaos inside. The pretty face, the so-called model body and the ability of success at many fields, seemed like an unreal but perfect person seen from outside.
At all times, I’ve been a serious and responsible soul. Always taking care of my brothers and telling them what to do and not do, like I was their mother. But once in a while I had a sort of sparcle in my eyes. Moments I was happy and didn’t care much about what others thought of me and how things should have been. It seemed like everything I had, was been what I wanted and the future was bright and encouraging.
The moving around took a tall on me. The energetic and the boyish personality drowned in the new waters and the wish for fitting in with the others grew stronger. I became a silent voice and succeeding became important for me. The usually loud girl and the need for attention reflected on impressing with achievements.
After a while, the nice and dutiful person inside me, felt taken for granted. The positive feedback on the sportsachivements slowly turned into what I could have done better. That I got A+ several of times, and I often just heard,”Oh… That’s good”, really made me take things for granted. The only thing which never took an end was the feedback about my perfect body, that I should begin modeling and that I was so pretty. I started embracing it, living healthy, always going for the more healthy options. Working out wasn’t just to have fun, but now it was to become perfect.
Since I never really felt I belonged to anyone where I moved, I became unsecure. The only thing, after a long limit of time, it seemed like the only thing I had control of was what I ate and how my body was. The amount of food got tinier and tinier. Every bit of food I took was with bad conscience. Reading in magazines, on how to get thin became an obsession. I felt the article and the guidelines were written to me. They were always mentioning the way to a better you and a better life, it was my way to go.
After a summer, of allot of training and living on a Jewish-Auswitch-diet, I was caught.
I felt forgotten, and the life of being perfect at all times became a lifestyle. It was always place for improvement and only good was not good enough. I was sitting in my room, studying how to get the perfect skinny body and improving at school, while my friends were out having fun. I didn’t deserve it, I was stuck in my own head.
Something in me was stronger than me. I felt trapped. Trapped in myself. A prisoner of a higher power than me. I’ve always wanted a sister, and now I had got one. Her name was Anorexia, also called Ana. She was someone I saw up to and highly admired. She was a role model. She kept telling me how to live my life, and what was best for me. Keeping quiet, and letting me do these such things, but afterwards yelling at me and fighting with teeth and claws.
I’ve got help, but I wasn’t really comfortable talking to someone. It was about me, not about others. The only thing that was wrong with me, was that I was fat. I was intensely afraid of myself and the thought of getting fat. But I wanted to recover, and living out my dreams of my life bu I feared to let myself go. I seemed like everything I did I did wrong. I was ugly and fat. Other times I felt motivated to become well again, but afterwards I felt like shit. I’m still here struggling and is waiting to live my life and accomplish what I truly want in life. But I will get there. I will break out and become free.