Nearly Euphoric {Nate Jacobs}

Chapter 2

Once I came home, Cecilia had cooked dinner for me. She made a steak salad with a side of french fries. Of course, though, I didn't eat the french fries and I picked off the steak and only ate a small portion of the salad. Cecilia is always disappointed when I don't eat her cooking. Her food is always delicious, it's just that I don't eat much of anything. I've never told anyone other than Lexi this, but I am in recovery from anorexia.

I kind of hate myself for it. It's just like, eat for god sakes, but it's so much easier said than done.
I started having an eating disorder my freshman year. I remember coming into school my first day of high school and feeling like I was the biggest, fattest girl in the entire school. For the record, this wasn't really the case. It was all just in my head. I've actually always been more on the petite side. But I had body dysmorphia and saw myself completely different from what I really looked like. I started out by just skipping a few meals here and there. And when I did eat, it was always only in small portions. But it got progressively worse as the days went by. Soon enough, I was only eating enough food to keep me from passing out (which didn't always work considering I passed out several times that year.)

Eventually, the school and my dance teacher, started to catch on to what was going on. So of course, they notified my parents and allowed them to handle it however they felt was best. But my parents don't really care about me, so they just paid for this therapist lady to talk to me about how I was feeling and stuff. And I guess she specialized in eating disorders too. Once again my money and privilege gave me an advantage over most people. She was helpful, but definitely not the reason I started to go into recovery. Most parents would have sent me to an actual place to get help with other teenagers going through the same thing. Basically rehab for people with eating disorders. But my parents were too worried about me missing out on my ballet training and school work. So they just had me go to therapy part-time so I could still do other stuff. I went through all of this until about the middle of last year. I was finally starting to get better. And no, there was no one reason I stopped. It just slowly got better over a long period of time.

At the time, I didn't really see what the big deal was. I mean I was still alive wasn't I? Looking back I realize how much danger I was putting myself in. And the thing was, even though I lost all of that weight (that already wasn't even really there) I still hated myself. Eating disorders are an addiction. No matter how little you eat or how much you make yourself throw up, you're always going to want to be thinner. I think that once I came to this realization, I was able to see that I was hurting myself and my ballet career.

Of course ballet was also definitely a factor in my eating disorder too. I always felt like successful ballerinas were stick-thin (which they usually are.) Which meant I would never eat so that I could be thin and successful too. But what I didn't realize was that food is a ballerinas source of energy. And without energy, I will NEVER be a good dancer. I don't want people to think that ballerinas never eat and all have eating disorders and stuff. Because that's really not the case. As far as I know, I'm the only dancer at my whole company that has ever had an eating disorder. Actually, most of them that are really serious about ballet eat a lot; it's just that when they do eat, they eat really healthy and balanced. Which is what I try to do now. But like I said before, I'm still in recovery.

Basically what that means is that I eat enough so I don't really have to worry about passing out or anything. But, I still need Cecilia and Lexi to help encourage me to eat every now and again. However, the important part is that I am eating. And as long as I continue to do that I will stay on the path to a full recovery. At least that's what my therapist says.

I don't plan on anyone else ever knowing about this, because I'm a rather private person. To be honest, I just feel like other people have so many problems in life, and the last thing they need to deal with is the spoiled rich girl complaining about how she can't eat. Not to mention, it's really embarrassing. I see it as a weakness. I mean how shallow and conceited does a person have to be to not even be able to eat because they're so obsessed with body image. It's not like I'm judging other people when they're overweight. But for some reason the thought of me ever being overweight is repulsing. And I also don't think that people who are anorexic are pathetic, at least not anymore. That was just me being self-deprecating when I had an eating disorder.