Read Part 1
I?d get on the scale and I?d see the numbers going down and I felt great. People were constantly complementing me on how great I looked. For the longest, I lied about my weight loss and attributed it to the weight loss class. Thirty-five days later (after having saltines, half a roll of mentos and water for my daily meal) I landed in the emergency room, dehydrated and needing intravenous fluids. The emergency room attendant couldn?t really believe that I hadn?t been eating and couldn?t believe that I?d lost so much weight in such a short amount of time (By then I?d lost about fifty pounds.) She asked me why couldn?t I just go home and drink a glass of water because it was equivalent to the intravenous fluids she was giving me. I just looked at her and shook my head because what she didn?t know (or maybe she did) was that I was going to go home and do all I could to counteract those fluids she put in my body. I couldn?t allow myself to get fat again. I still had too much weight to lose. I was on a downward cycle. I continued to starve myself but I also began to binge and purge again. I would alternate between anorexia and bulimia. I?d go three days on saltines and mentos and then binge and purge. A normal binge would be about $40 worth of food.
I?d go to buffets and eat and eat then stop, go in the bathroom and purge, then go back out and eat some more. Then I would starve myself out for three days.
Again, I was on a roller coaster. I tried to incorporate ipecac syrup into my purge like I did when I was in high school, but I found myself laying face down on the bathroom floor pleading to God not to let me die. I couldn?t handle it. I weighed myself at least thirty times a day. I?d weigh myself when I first woke up in the morning after I used the bathroom completely nude. I put my clothes on and weighed myself again. I?d pack my lunch of jell-o and crackers and a pop, then weigh myself. If I had to use the bathroom before leaving for work, I?d take all my clothes off first, then use the bathroom, and then weigh myself. I?d take my daughter to school then go to work. If I had morning coffee at work, I?d purge.
I?d eat my lunch then purge. I spent most of my time at work in the bathroom throwing up. Eventually, I stopped purging in the bathroom at work and started keeping bags and towels in my car and I?d purge in my car.
By September I was down to 155 pounds and virtually non-functional. I was a horrible mother-thank God for my aunt and cousin who basically took care of my daughter for me. I would come home from work and immediately go to sleep.
After sleeping for hours I?d get up then spend time with my daughter or go to church. Later on at night, I?d go to the grocery store or a fast food restaurant and buy food. I?d bring it home and eat it in my room then throw up in the trash can.
When I was sure everyone was asleep, I?d take the trash can to the bathroom and flush the contents down the toilet. That was my life. I ended up in the hospital again in September because my electrolytes were severely out of whack; especially my potassium levels. I spent ten days in the hospital. Even while in the hospital I obsessed over my weight and eating. I purged wherever I could-in the sheets, trash cans, bags, anywhere. I wanted to be better but something would not let me. I couldn?t let go of the eating disorders. I felt they were all I had.
While in the hospital I met with a psychiatrist. To my surprise my primary care physician told the psychiatrist about my rape and previous history with eating disorders. The therapist brought up the rape and I told her I was over that issue in my life. We talked about my family, job, and church life and I told her I was happy and fine all those areas. Needless to say, I was not fine. I left the hospital and returned to my old way of life and my eating disorders. I lost another ten pounds and was beginning to feel suicidal. The eating disorder had completely taken over me. It?s all I thought about. All I wanted to do was eat, purge and sleep.
I neglected everyone. I stayed in close contact with one friend from church who was there with me from the beginning of this nightmare to the bitter end. She prayed for me and was always there to talk and encourage me. Yet, I was still on a downward cycle. My church family reached out to me and tried to show as much care and concern as I would allow. They prayed for me, but I wasn?t getting better. Instead, I was getting worse. I asked God to help me, but I didn?t want that help to include gaining weight. I wanted God to make me better physically, but not make me stop losing weight. I continued to go to therapy, doctors appointments and to binge and purge. I continued to lose weight and a true sense of hopelessness set in. By then, my therapist and I began to talk about the rape and my feelings of blame, shame, and guilt. I?d buried these feelings for so long and lied to myself about being past the issues if rape, so that when the issues were dug up, I freaked out. I began to binge and purge more and lose more weight. I wanted to numb myself and not feel any emotions. All of a sudden I was dealing with a lot of issues: an eleven year old rape, anger towards my mom and family because instead of being supportive they were abusive and not supportive, feelings of regret about not continuing my education, low self-esteem, no self-worth, I felt like God didn?t love me for allowing those horrible events to occur in my life years ago and I didn?t feel like He loved me at the point in my life I was at in October of 2000. I decided I would just kill myself and end it because it would be better than the life I had.
That train of thought landed me in the psychiatric hospital for a week. It was clear to all that I was out of control. I needed a serious intervention. I?d lost my job, I was a bad mom, and barely alive. At this point I entered the River Centre Clinic in Toledo, OH. The clinic was especially for people with eating disorders. I did not want to go. Some of my old friends from college told me ?Black people don?t do this. We eat food and love it. We don?t go to therapy like that. We have big butts and our men love it!? ? You will be the only spot [Black person] there (at treatment)?. ?That is a white girl?s problem and they will not be able to help you there?. And sure enough, when I got there, I was the only black person there.
By having an eating disorder I felt like I?d betrayed my race. I felt like a sell-out. I felt like a ?bad Christian? too for not having enough faith to get better on my own. I knew I?d failed my family and friends and more hopelessness set in. I was in treatment there for four months. I really began to dig deep into my issues and had made some progress in that area, but I still couldn?t shake the eating disorders. I continued to purge, but because of the program I was involved in, I obtained all of my nutritional needs during the course of the program hours. I was unable to get rid of my food so I maintained my weight. However, I still binged and purged at night to cope with the stress of treatment and the idea of food being in my body.
After four months I was done at the River Centre Clinic and I went back to Rochester. I was on my way with dealing with my issues but I still couldn?t really deal with my weight. Though I?d been dealing with the idea that my curves were not what caused me to get raped, I still didn?t completely believe that I wasn?t somehow to blame. So, I immediately lost 20 pounds, then 30, then 40, until I was down to 108 pounds. I could actually shop in the girls? section of a clothing store-the same section where I shopped for my four year old daughter! That registered in my mind as ridiculous. It hurt to sit. It hurt to stand. It hurt to lay. I had enrolled in nursing school and I was doing quite well, but I had no energy. I had problems when we did our clinical rotations because I couldn?t turn my patients because I had no strength. I prayed and asked God for help. This time when I went to Him I was sincere and willing to do whatever He told me to do to get better. I wanted to live. I wanted to be a better mom. I wanted to be a better daughter and friend. I wanted to be a nurse. I just wanted more than the life I had with an eating disorder which was only going to eventually lead me to death. God told me to go to my doctor and tell her I would go into the hospital like she suggested. It was so hard to do that because I still didn?t want to gain weight. I didn?t want to have to feel my emotions. I didn?t want to have to feel the emotional pain I?d have to feel if I really dealt with my issues instead of hiding behind anorexia and bulimia. So, once in the hospital I struggled to do the right thing. The first week there I still purged my food-again in towels, sheets, while taking a shower since it was not monitored. Based on the calorie amount I was placed on, I should have been gaining more weight, but I wasn?t so my doctor knew I was still purging. She was about to send me to a long-term treatment facility because I wasn?t cooperating. I did not want to go there.
So, I prayed again and asked God to help me because I really did want a normal life again. By week two, I wasn?t purging as much and I gained enough weight to go home. But, I no longer had a home. My aunt refused to let me return to her home. My daughter was with my mother who would not give her back to me until I could prove I was better. Now, it was just God and me. My dear friend from church opened her home to me and allowed me to stay with her for about six weeks. While there I really cried out to God more. I admitted to Him, myself and others that I hated to gain weight and that I hated how food felt in my body. I told myself and began to believe that I was not responsible for being raped. I asked God to take the pain, hurt, shame, blame, and guilt away that I felt about being raped. I asked Him if He really loved me, I mean really loved me like His Word said. He took the pain away. he took the feelings of blame away. He helped me to forgive those that hurt me during and after the rape. He helped me to see that I was okay and that situation was the past and His future for me was great. He helped me be able to love myself and my body just the way He created me. He has taken away the obsessing over my weight and body and food. He?s given me hope and joy. I?m now a functional human being. I can hold a job, I can go to school and excel. I can be in relationships with men without feeling they are going to harm me. I can be a better mom to my now six year old daughter. I can be a better friend. I can talk to rape survivors and let them know that truly they are survivors. I can encourage women who suffer from low self-esteem and challenge them and tell them that God loves them and that there is hope. Most importantly, I can be the person that God has destined me to be. I can talk to people and tell them that I?ve been to the edge of the cliff, I?ve held on by my pinky fingernail, but God loved me and saved me from death from an eating disorder brought on by the pain of life. I can live, and love and eat without fear.
You CAN have victory over an eating disorder!
