Kailyn's Story through Anorexia and Self-Injury - Health - http://maxpages.com/elliesownpage/Kailyns

For four years I kidded myself that I didn't have a problem. Even at my lowest weight I was never more than a couple of pounds underweight. Because of that I doubted that I had a problem, and I was scared that if I told someone that I thought I had anorexia they would laugh at me; thats why I waited until I was at the point of suicide before I finally asked for help.
I was always a happy child. At first school I was popular, intelligent, pretty. I guess I always had the makings of an ED sufferer- I was a perfectionist, paranoid about what peope thought of me and really, secretly quite insecure. When I moved up to middle school when I was nearly ten, I went from being a big fish in a little pond to a little fish in a big pond- all these new people seemed to be cleverer, prettier, more popular...there was one girl in my class who took an instant dislike to me. She said I was a goody two-shoes, a geek, teachers pet. She told my friends that if they hung around with my they wouldn't be cool either. Hey, they were ten years old! I don't blame them for giving in to her, but that was the beginning.
Luckily for me, I made friend with a new girl from Scotland. She was great- funny, popular, all the boys liked her- everyone wanted to be her new best friend. But you know what? She chose me because I was the first person to take her in and show her round, to help her if she got lost, to try to get to know her instead of just ranting about how cool her clothes were. Noone teased me while I was with Claire. We were inseperable, like sisters. Then one day just before my eleventh birthday she came to school upset and quiet. She had been told she had to move back to Scotland. She left two weeks later, on my birthday.
The girls in my class had a field day- I was alone, with no friends, no protection and I was so depressed that I didnt care what they did to me. I was teased unmercilessly all that year and all the next. During that time I made friends with another girl who was pretty unpopular- but it was a very destructive relationship because she only hung around with me because I made her feel less hated. When she was with me the bullies left her alone and concentrated on me. If anyone else came along she would be off in a flash. She constantly put me down, told me I was ugly. I was taking all that from the bullies, now this ghirl who I considered to be my best friend was at it too. Its no wonder that I entered year eight with no self esteem, practically suicidal and hating myself completely.
Although my 'friend' was hurting me too, I was incredibly grateful to her for daring to be seen with me. I was social suicide! I had developed crushes on teachers who reached out to me and tried to help me before: now I developed a crush on her- an obsession really. She dumped me because I was so possessive- well, I had reason to be! Nothing was stable in my life. My obsession grew deeper and I ripped myself apart over her. I eventually had a break down, developed panic attacksand extreme paranoia, started hitting myself when I caught sight of my reflection in a mirror...the mind set for my ED flourished. Eventually my form tutor asked me if I was ok and I broke down instantly. I told her everything. The school put me in another class in february '98, when I had six months left at that school. I made friends in my new class, sure- but the paranoia never left me. It was so bad that I thought that everyone was laughing at me, constantly. It drove me to more panic attacks and deeper depression. When I finally moved up to my current school, the upper school in Purbeck, Dorset, I had already started to restrict my food intake and was on a fast track to destruction.
I had found that when I restricted, my emotions and thoughts all left me and I was left with a confused, fuzzy feeling. This was far better than the thoughts I had about myself! The problem was, that my school work started to suffer...being such a perfectionist I would panic and binge to get rid of my daze- then hate myself even more. I think it was after a binge that I first cut my arm. That was the start of another problem that haunts me still now.
All of this carried on into my next year, year ten. By then I was fifteen and cutting daily- I now have over two hundred scars on my right arm. I did try to get help- my panic attacks came back, worse than ever and during one I freaked and told my year head everything. He somehow got me refered to a child psychologist. Then, somehow, someone found out about my self harm and eating disorder. Suddenly the whole school knew! I had total strangers coming up to me asking to see my scars, or asking for dieting tips! I couldn't take it- this was my secret, it had nearly killed me and all these people where calling me witch, psycho, loser, freak because of it. It was obviously my fault that I was like this- I wasn't anorexic, I wasn't on the point of death by starvation- all teenagers get suicidal at some point...bullshit. The voices convinced me of this. I pulled away from the help and kept myself under even tighter control. I didnt self harm or get panic attacks anymore, or restrict...or in my mind anyway. I actually did. I gave up chocolate and practically lived on fruit. I took up running too...I was beginning to lose a lot of weight by the time I got to summer break.
That summer a lot of things happened. I am in a choir that goes touring abroad most years, and this year it was euro disney we sang in. I had an arguement with my best friend, isolated myself from the rest of the group, couldn't eat properly, or sleep...back at school I went back to my old eating habits, and by Christmas I was at my lowest weight yet...though still not low enough to tally with the number in my head, or to show people that I had a huge problem. Year eleven in England is when we take our GCSEs- important exams, like SATs in America, I guess. The perfectionist in me was screaming that I needed straight 'A's, I was under pressure at home because I wasn't eating properly, I was tormented by urges to cut myself and by skipping both breakfast and lunch, and only picking at tea, then binging the next day. I was tired, irritable, scared shitless and seriously depressed. The inevitable happened: my panic attacks came back.
My panic attacks start with this feeling of dissociation from the world, I would retreat into myself. Then I would feel dizzy and sick, then this huge wave of terror comes over me and I have to leave my class. Then I start hyperventilating uncontrollably collapsed in a toilet somewhere. It feels like you are dying, suffocating, drowning...the best way to describe it is to say that when I was restricting I was controlling my emotions so tightly that they all hit me at once- all that hate, anger, fear hitting me in wave after wave after wave...when they began again I knew I had to get help, or I wouldn't make it through- or even to- my exams.
I went to my English teacher. She had been nice to me once in year ten when I had an attack in her class, and I love English so we get on very well. I felt she would understand me. After english one day I askedher if I could speak to her, and I told her that my panic attacks were coming back. She asked if I was still eating properly...I couldn't lie, I told her that I never had been and that it had nearly killed me over christmas (I nearly got run over when I was in a daze). She talked to one of the deputy heads, and they arranged an appointment with the school doctor for me. After one meeting with Dr Kelsall, she decided that I needed to be refered to a child psychiatrist.
I met the psychiatrist and he put me on cipramil, an anti depressant. I started trying to recover in february '01, albeit half-heartedly.I still didn't feel that I really had a problem, I thought I was being selfish and making it up I guess.
My panic attacks got a lot worse before they got better. At one point not so long ago I was having them almost every day. I had a few really bad ones in which I went a rather nasty shade of blue and nearly passed out, they left me exhausted and scared for my life...it really does feel like you are dying. Ive had major relapses too- I had my lowest point ever while I was doing my exams, I cut so badly that I had to go to hospital two days running. Then the worst happened: I cut in an exam. I dissociated and cut for about forty-five minutes, then 'woke up'- to find that I was in the middle of my maths exam and hadn't even written my name, let alone started the questions. The invigilators there noticed that I was upset and tried to get me out but I wouldn't go- they would have seen the pool of blood I was covering up. When they were all at the top of the room I ran out and went straight up to my English teachers office, while I was busy being hysterical she sorted it out for me. The school nurse patched me up, my head of year rang my parents and she calmed me down, now I have been exempted from that exam as I have a medical certificate. I took the rest of my exams in a seperate room of my own (with tea on demand!).
After three months of serious recovery I am still nowhere near recovered. I am still constantly besieged with urges to cut and voices telling me that I am fat, ugly, can't eat that etc...but thanks to a lot of peoples support and love I am getting there. I got through the rest of my exams, though I dont know how well I did considering that you can't really concentrate in the middle of a nervous breakdown! I have slipped up a few times, sure- but thats all part of recovery I guess. If all the alcoholics, drug addicts, gamblers, ED sufferers. self harmers etc gave up and had to start over every time they slipped noone would ever get through the first week! I have seen what my life could be like, I have experienced what happiness feels like again...and now I can't give in to my ED. I am sixteen, I have my whole life ahead of me...living with an ED is not living at all-its just existing from day to day. I want to live now.

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Ellie

United States

help4eds@yahoo.com

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Page Updated Sun Aug 12, 2001 11:20pm EDT