Margot's Story: A Teenager's Struggle for Perfection - Health - http://maxpages.com/elliesownpage/Margots

At first glance, my life seems to have been the perfect life. I was born into a rich upper class family, with no divorces or abuses. I have 4 wonderful brothers and 2 parents who love me to pieces. Everything so far seems normal, however if you look through me, you will see that my life has not been as perfect as it has been painted to be.

It started when I was about 12 years old. I spent a lot of time by myself in my room, reading and thinking about life in general. I was curious to see what lay outside that little bubble my parents had created for me, and in a way I hated myself for having been brought up the way I was. I felt guilty for having the life I had. I felt guilty for having a family who loved me to pieces and somehow through the guilt I managed to break this into pieces and tear my family apart.

All my life I have been an extremely sensitive little girl. Everything that people would tell me affected me, and already at that age my first suicide thoughts were born in my head. I started reading magazines about people who cut themselves, and people who committed suicide and it fascinated me. Anything that my parents would not approve of fascinated me. And that's when it all started. I met a boy at that age and I thought I "loved" him, however for the first time in my life I did not get what I wanted. I did not get this boy, and somehow I was angry at him for not loving me. I was so furious that I told myself that I would make myself sick in order to get him to feel sorry for me and then want to be with me. And that's what happened.

I turned myself into an anorexic or I pretended to be one. I stopped eating for a while, and when I finally got his boy, I lost interest in him and decided that my plan had worked and now it was time for me to get back to normal... Normal...meaning eating again....I did not realize I was trapped. I was trapped inside my own body and I was really sick.

For the first time in my life I lost control over myself and since that day, my life has been devoted to my illness and to my depressions. Over 4 years have passed since I started my little game and it has still not ended. I kept on thinking that I was "all right," that nothing was wrong with me, until I realized that I had spent the last few months counting calories and purging. My parents did not suspect anything in the start, since I have always been very picky with food, and I have always been very thin. I started going through enormous periods of depressions and at the age of 13 I had my first encounter with self-injuring. One day I was sitting frustrated in my little cave (as I called my room) and I started cutting my arm. It felt so good. I felt relieved. I loved seeing the blood dripping down my shirt, it was like a punishment towards myself, for having eaten too much that day.

As the years went by, my illness changed a lot. I would go through periods where everything seemed normal, and then suddenly I would slip and get totally depressed and stop eating for months. It was only then that my parents realized what was going on. I was diagnosed with "anorexia nervosa" with tendencies of "deep depressions." Of course they couldn't just send me to a normal doctor, but they made a point out of sending me to the countries "best doctor." When I had to go see a psychiatrist they could not send me to a normal one, but again they made a point out of sending me to the "best and most important" of the country. It made me sick, I knew they used that to describe her because she was the most expensive one they could find. I didn't trust any of my doctors because they were all people my parents had gotten through "their connections" and the thought of it being their friends made me not want to tell the doctors the truth. I started lying an awful lot to my psychiatrist. I simply couldn't tell her the truth, because somehow deep inside I was scared that it would ruin my parents image since she was a colleague of my parents friends.

Last year during Christmas I reached my lowest point. I got into a deep depression and stayed in bed for months. I was literally crying all day and did not want to see or talk to anyone. I did not have enough energy to walk up the stairs in school. I looked like a walking skeleton as my ex-best friend pointed out to me. I would get black outs all the time during school. I could not concentrate and I would go into the bathroom and break out crying everytime I had a free period. My parents were extremely worried about me. At one point I had to take 2 anti-depressives everyday, see 2 different doctors 4 times a week and take 5 different medications in order to give my body the vitamins it was lacking.

I remember my father came to pick me up from my appointment one night, it was raining outside and we were driving home stuck in traffic. I suddenly felt like talking bout everything to my father, but as usual he was talking on his cell. I couldn't handle it anymore, and I broke out crying. I never cried so much and finally my father hanged up and asked me what was wrong. I told him everything. I told him that I was only 16 years old and that I did not want to live my life as if I was some 45 year old woman who had been abused and had her children die in a car accident. I said "antidepressants are for people who have been through fucking hell, for people with real problems, not someone like me who hasn't even been out into the real world, I dot want to spend 4 days of my week going to see some fucking person who gets paid to listen to me. I'm too young for all this shit. I'm still a fucking baby." My father was at first shocked, but he reacted well to it. He understood me and promised me that I did not have to take all those medications and that I would only have to go twice to see my psychiatrist. The weird thing about all this, is that all through my illness I have been thinking about school. I am simply too ambitious. If one day I dot go to school because I am simply too depressed, I feel horrible and guilty. I have such high expectations for myself regarding school. It drives my mother mad, she says "first think about your health and then worry about school." She is right, I have to get well first, but I cant help it. I'm simply too hard on myself.

I can spend a whole night without sleeping and then go to school and get pissed of at myself for being tired during a class. I think it comes because all my life I think that people see me as the "little rich kid" and I hate that label. It drives me sick. I think that the only way to get out of it, is by succeeding by myself. By being a successful person without my fathers help. By achieving perfect grades by myself, and by getting an excellent college result. I want to show the world that I am not stupid. I want to show the world that I am a human being with feelings too. That I cry, laugh and hurt. and somehow I have come to believe that people only see me as a doll. That no one takes me seriously. Nowadays I am still sick, however I have finally realized that I dot want to be like this for the rest of my life. I want to start living before I die. I want to go out there and live. I want to have fun, I want to feel loved for the person I am. I want people to accept me the way that I am, and the only way for that to happen is if I start by accepting myself.

Thank you for reading my story.

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Ellie

United States

help4eds@yahoo.com

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Page Updated Mon Oct 9, 2006 6:26pm EDT