A Letter From Anorexia

A Letter From Anorexia.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name, or as I'm called by so many 'doctors' is Anorexia. Anorexia Nervosa is my full name, but you may call me Ana. Hopefully we can become great partners. In the coming time I will invest a lot of time into you, and I expect the same from you.

In the past you have heard all of your teachers and parents talking about you. You are so 'mature', 'intelligent', "14 going on 45'', and 'you possess so much potential'. Where has that gotten you, may I ask? Absolutely no where! You are not perfect, you do not try hard enough, furthermore you waste your time on thinking and talking with friends and drawing! Such acts of indulgence shall not be allowed in the future.

Your friends do not understand you. They are not truthful. In the past, when the insecurity has quietly gnawed away at your mind, and you ask them. "Do I look.... Fat" and they answer, "Oh no, of course not" you knew they were lying! Only I tell you the truth. Your parents, let's not even go there! You know they care for you and love you, but part of that is just that they are your parents and are obligated to do so. I shall tell you a secret now: deep down inside themselves, they are disappointed in you. Their daughter, the one with so much potential, has turned into a fat, lazy and undeserving girl.

But I am about to change all that.

I expect a lot from you. You are not allowed to eat much, it will start slowly:

decreasing a fat intake, reading the nutrition labels, cutting out junk food, fried food, etc. For a while exercise will be simple: some running, perhaps some crunches, and some sit ups. Nothing too serious. Perhaps drop a few pounds, take a little tub off that fat tub of a stomach. But it won't be good enough before I tell you that's not good enough.

I will expect you to drop your calorie intake and up your exercise. I will push you to the limit. You must take it because you can not defy me! I am beginning to embed myself in you. Pretty soon I am with you always. I am there when you wake up in the morning and run to the scale. The numbers become both friend and enemy, and the frenzied thoughts pray for them to be lower than yesterday, last night, etc. You look in the mirror with dismay. You prod and poke at the fat that is there, and smile when you come across bone. I am there when you figure out the plan for the day: 400 calories, 2 hours of exercise. I am the one figuring this out, because by now your thoughts are blurred together as one.

I follow you throughout the day. In school, when your mind wanders I give you something to think about. Recount the calories for the day. I fill your mind with thoughts of food, weight, calories and things that are safe to think about. Because now, I am already inside of you. I am in your head, your heart, your soul. The hunger pains your pretend not to feel, that is me inside of you.

Pretty soon I'm telling you not only to do with food but ALL of the time. Smile and nod. Present yourself well. Suck in that fat stomach, dammit! God, you are such a fat cow!!! When meal time comes around I tell you what to do. I make a plate of lettuce like a feast fit for a king. Push the food around. Make it look like you've been eating something. No piece of anything...if you eat, all control will be broken...do you WANT that?? To revert back to the fat COW you once were??? I force you to stare at magazine models. Those perfect skinned, white teethed, waifish models staring out at you from those glossy pages. I make you realize that you will never be as beautiful as they are. When you look in the mirror, I will distort the image. I will show you obesity and hideousness. I will show you a sumo wrestler when in reality there is a starving child. But you must not know this, because if you knew the truth, you might start eating again and our relationship will come crashing down.

Sometimes you will rebel. Hopefully not often though. You will recognize the small rebellious fiber left in your body and will venture down into the dark kitchen. The cupboard door will slowly open, creaking softly. Your eyes will move over the food that I have kept at a safe distance from you. You will find your hands reaching out, lethargically, like a nightmare, though the darkness to the box of crackers. You shove them in mechanically, not really tasting them but simple relishing in the fact that you are going against me. You reach for another box, then another, then another. Your stomach will become bloated and grotesque, but you will not stop yet. And all the time I am screaming at you to stop, you fat cow, you really have no self control, you really are going to get fat.

When it is all over you will cling to me again, ask me for advice because you really do not want to get fat. You broke a cardnial rule and ate, and now you want me back. I'll force you into the bathroom, onto your knees, staring into the void of the toilet bowl. Your fingers will be inserted into your throat, and, not without a great deal of pain, your food binge will come up. Over and over this is to be repeated, until you spit up blood and water and you know it's all gone. When you stand up, you will feel dizzy. Don't pass out. Stand up right now. You fat cow you deserve to be in pain!

Maybe the choice of getting the guilt out is different. Maybe I choose to make you take laxatives, where you sit on the toilet until the wee hours of the morning, feeling your insides cringe. Or perhaps I make you hurt yourself, bang your head into the wall until you have a throbbing headache. Cutting is also effective. I want you to see your blood, to see it fall down your arm, and in that split second you will realize you deserve whatever pain I give you. You are depressed, obsessed, in pain, hurting, reaching out but no one will listen? Who cares?!?!?! You are deserving; you brought this upon yourself.

Oh, is that harsh? Do you not want this to happen to you? Am I unfair? I do do things that will help you. I make it possible for you to forget about emotions that cause you stress. Thoughts of anger, sadness, desperation, and loneliness can cease because I take them away and fill your head with methodic calorie counting. I take away your struggle to fit in with kids your age, the struggle of trying to please everyone else as well. Because now, I am your only friend, the only one you need to please.

I have a weak spot. But we must not tell anyone. If you decide to fight back, to reach out to someone and tell them about how I make you live, all hell will break loose. No one must find out, no one can break this shell I have covered you in. I have created you, this thin, achieving, perfect child. You are mine, and mine alone. Without me, you are nothing. So do not fight back. When others comment, ignore them. Take it into stride, forget about them, forget about everyone that tries to take me away. I am your greatest asset and I intend on keeping it that way.

Sincerely, Ana.