Sahana Vathsa
Trigger Warning: Eating Disorders, Self-Harm, Panic Attacks
The funny thing about eating disorders is that they make you feel like you're in control when, in reality, you're far from it.
At first, I thought it was some sort of life hack. I could eat as much as I wanted and still get skinnier. It was like I cracked some biological code and found the ultimate loophole. I saw myself shrink day by day, and it felt amazing - that is, if I ignored the constant dizziness, tiredness, and absolute lack of self-confidence.
School kept getting worse for me as more friends kept coming and going. It seemed like the only thing that was constant in my life was my eating disorder. So I kept it a secret and got used to a routine; once after breakfast, once after lunch, and once after dinner. Breaking that cycle meant losing the one escape that I had from the volatility of everything else in my life. It made me feel like I was in control of something, and that feeling was like a drug to me.
I remember having a panic attack at school in 9th grade. My friends took me to the school counselor, but I stared at her until the bell rang. I couldn't let her in on my secret. She'd tell me to stop or worse, tell someone about it. That didn't stop people from thinking that this was all some colossal sham to grab as much attention as I could.
It went on for more than two years. Doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong, and I wouldn't let them think anything was. My blood tests practically gave it away, but I still used to say nothing and took as many pills as they prescribed. How could someone who laughed and smiled so much be going through anything remotely concerning?
My health kept deteriorating, and the guilt of it all was eating me alive - ironic, huh? I refused to let anyone know because I wanted, more than anything, to be accepted, and this would make me look more like a freak in the eyes of those kids who said this was all for attention. I was ashamed that the only thing that made me happy was slowly killing me.
I didn't care about the consequences. People started to call me pretty, and I was so overwhelmed by the feeling of being finally noticed and accepted. Guys began to talk to me, and I got a little attention. It was all so stupid. So incredibly [censored] stupid.
I couldn't stop. Even though I didn't want to do it anymore, it became a habit. My body forced me to do it. That control I thought I had, well, I never had it to begin with. It took me months to stop forcing myself to throw up. It took me months to be able to eat regularly again.
All because I valued my self-worth based on how skinny I was.
I am beautiful. You are beautiful. And no one can ever take that away from you unless you let them.