The Serendipitous Treatment for My Disordered Eating

My personal struggle with anorexia

Photo by Dose Juice on Unsplash

I wanted to be a model. I loved fashion. I read Seventeen and Glamour cover to cover every month. I yearned to pose in all those funky and cool clothes. Perusing those magazines in the late 70’s and early 80’s, I’d finally found a way to think of my tall and flat-chested gawkiness as something positive.

I went out for the track team the spring of my sophomore year in high school. I wasn’t a phenomenal runner, but I liked it. I decided I was going to join the cross country team in the fall.

Then something weird happened that summer. I got sick while visiting my aunt and uncle for a few days, vomiting up whatever I’d had for dinner. It took me several days to be able to eat again.

I lost weight, and my clothes were baggy on me. I liked it. No, I loved it. I don’t know why. I loved being even skinnier than I already was. I loved knowing I had control over it. I started counting calories.

I continued counting calories as I began logging long miles as a member of the cross country team. I’d eat Grape Nuts in the morning, a sandwich at lunch, and because I was from a big family, and my parents were running here and there with my four younger brothers and sisters, I’d eat a salad for dinner that no one…