Josie's Journey

No Munchausen's To See Here!

Josie stared at a small booklet the doctor had handed to her, with an appointment summary paper stapled to the front:

'Diagnosis: Mental illness - Anorexia Nervosa with Bulimic tendencies'

She was shocked, confused, scared. Her mother liked to keep her sheltered, so she barely knew anything about anorexia or bulimia, and would never have suspected that she herself had it. Sure, she'd heard the popular girls at lunch bemoaning how they were "sooo bulimic today" and "totally obsessed with calories," but she'd never seen herself in their actions.

Her anxiety had risen higher and higher every minute Dr. Heron had spent examining her. She'd been weighed and measured, her hair and skin examined, her mouth and teeth inspected. She had to answer embarrassing questions about her eating, sleeping, hair loss, laxative use, and even about her period - which, for the record, she hadn't had in three months. By the end of the appointment, Josie was officially freaking out.

"You can't keep living like this, Josie," Dr. Heron said in a caring but firm voice. "You're becoming malnourished. Your BMI is borderline, almost underweight. Inducing vomiting will damage your teeth and throat. You're depleted in electrolytes, which is especially dangerous because you have POTS. You're at risk for developing gastroparesis, or possibly even rupturing your stomach or esophagus from  forcing yourself to vomit. Need I go on?"

Josie, who was barely holding off a panic attack and had stopped listening after hearing 'BMI,' shook her head fiercely - then winced when she remembered her head injury.

"You're wrong! There's no way I have an eating disorder," she said, panic rising in her voice. "I'm not restricting my food, and besides...  if I was it would only be because it hurts to eat and I'm allergic to so many things!" She sighed deeply.

"Josie, it can be hard to accept these difficult diagnoses." Dr. Heron sighed and went to the door. "Elaine, if you'll step out with me."

Elaine glanced at Josie before she went just outside the door. It was cracked open, and Josie scooted her chair closer so she could listen to their "private" discussion.

"Ma'am, your daughter is sick, and she'll only get worse," the doctor explained in a low and urgent tone. "If these behaviors continue, she's at risk of several complications and even death. I recommend you -"

"If you don't mind," Elaine interjected, "I think I'll get an opinion on this from a psychologist. I'll make sure to feed her plenty of hearty meals. Thank you for your time."

Elaine grabbed her daughter's hand and gently guided her to the car. Josie got in the passenger seat and her mother buckled her in - she couldn't do it herself because her arm was still in the sling. Once the car was in motion, Josie found herself staring out the window, slipping into denial again.

'I don't have an eating disorder, I'm not anorexic,' she thought to herself. 'Anorexics look like walking skeletons, and I'm so... chubby! Sometimes I'll make myself vomit, sure, but only when I've eaten something I know I shouldn't. That's not a bulimic tendency, everyone does that! And I only restrict my food and do diets because of my allergies. It's not unhealthy...' She sighed and closed her eyes.

— — —

Josie had been laying in bed under her covers for a few hours, scrolling through social media and listening to some relaxing music. Her mom knocked on the door and opened it, then stepped in and sat on the foot of her daughter's bed.

"Hey honey," she said gently. "I brought you a little snack, just some nachos I made."

She sighed, and reached for a nacho to nibble on - just to please her mom.

"I think Dr. Heron is... outside his expertise," Elaine said. "I did some researching, and I found a psychologist for you to see. I know, I know, you don't want to. But it's for the best, right?"

Josie rolled her eyes. "Mom, I'm fine," she grumbled, obviously lying. "Look, I'm eating. Besides, I'm too chubby to be anorexic."

Elaine teared up, and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Josie, I'm worried about you. Maybe he's right, you do look skinnier... I don't know if you really do have anorexia, but I'm going to call that psychologist anyway."

She laid down again and closed her eyes. "Fine, I'll go, but only to a girl doctor."

Her mom patted her on the shoulder and left the room, the plate of nachos still on the nightstand. Josie could practically feel the oily cheese in her mouth - disgusting. She got up and scraped the plate into the toilet and flushed, leaving only a few chips behind. This was how she'd usually trick her mother - making it look like she'd eaten when she'd barely touched her food.

Elaine sat in the kitchen, head in her hands. She silently vowed to do whatever it takes to help her daughter recover and become normal again.

Josie vowed to try harder than ever before to finally become skinny and perfect, to do whatever it takes to hide her secret from everyone - including her mom.