Anorexia; a growing problem among teens. The want, the need to be skinny is hard to deal with. The over powering desire to fit into the smaller clothes you see other people of your gender wear. You see I was one of those people who hide underneath those clothes that kind of covered up the fat. I was overweight a couple of years before I really started obsessing over it. I had no desire to exercise or cut off the yummy fattening foods for a long time. The obsession with losing a few pounds started about two years ago. I started by skipping breakfast. I felt amazing after I lost the first five pounds (which I my intended goal), but I started thinking what harm could it do to lose ten more pounds? That’s were it all started to go down hill. I would pretend to eat breakfast and lunch it was easy no one suspected me of starving myself. I would tell myself “You’re not starving yourself, you’re just skipping a few meals, and lots of people do it”. I was convinced that I was doing the best thing for myself. About a year after I started my obsession my mom started noticing the weight loss and my appetite loss. I would just tell her I’m not hungry or something like I had a big lunch. My friends at school started noticing as well and tried to tell me I was going anorexic. But I wouldn’t listen to them, I would just tell them I’m on a special diet. Little did I know that lots of people noticed that I wasn’t eating. I started weighing myself eight or more times a day. I refused to believe that I was obsessed. I just wanted to be skinny and not hate looking at myself in the mirror. One day I got home from school and my mom said we were going to St. George to see our family. As we were there I became really sick so my mom proceeded to drive me to the emergency room. On our way I became so out of it that I couldn’t even remember my name and I then blacked out. My mom was so frightened that she called to have an ambulance meet us were she had stopped driving. I remember faintly being put into an ambulance and them asking me if I was starving myself and I said not lately. And lasts the last thing I remember before waking up in the hospital. I wouldn’t admit to the doctor that I wasn’t eating, so no one really grasped that I had a problem. I wish I could say that after that trip to the emergency room that it was the end to my obsession but sadly it was only the beginning. When we got back home I pretended to eat so my mom wouldn’t suspect anything. A few months later I was back I the hospital, this time they knew what I was doing. My mom was devastated she didn’t ever think I would do such a thing. The doctor and everyone told me I needed to start eating but I refused too. I was so scared of losing all that progress I had accomplished, I had lost about thirty-five pounds by then. I felt better about myself I felt pretty for the first time in my life. Little did I know what I was doing to myself. My mom found out that I was blacking out a lot and I was always sick so she took me to the doctor. The doctor was told by my mom that I was anorexic. He told me that from all the starvation that I had ruined my pancreas and that I was diabetic. He told me if I didn’t start eating and taking care of myself that I would die in a few years. But I didn’t care I wanted to be skinnier. I started getting up at four in the morning to run and at ten at night everyday and night. If I missed a day of running I would criticize myself and the self hatred grew. I knew if I exercised and ate little that I would lose weight faster. So I started going days without eating. I keep waiting for that feeling that I had in the beginning, the accomplished feeling. But it wasn’t there; I pushed myself to lose more weight. People’s compliments of how good I looked stopped; they started telling that I looked like I was dying. So I pushed myself harder to get those compliments, I refused to believe that the doctor was right. Then it hit me like a brick wall. The pains in my stomach hurt so badly. I got so sick that I couldn’t even move. I had no strength, I was dwindling away. I was losing my old look and replacing it with a look of death. But then I knew everyone at school knew what was happening, I was dying. I still wouldn’t believe it, I keep telling myself you’re fine, you’re doing great and don’t give up now. My sickness got so bad that I was completely dependant on my mom, to getting to the bathroom or to getting any where. I was just too weak to do anything by myself. I began to see what I was doing to myself. I slowly began eating again but I still keep the excise up. I still have a hard time when I find out that I gained a few pounds, I even cry about it. I’m recovering and trying to learn to accept myself the way I am. I still have problems eating but I have good friends, my wonderful mom, and an amazing boyfriend who is very helpful. I know none of them want me to die and I don’t really think I want to die. So I’ve been doing better at eating and not worrying so much about the numbers on the scale. I still don’t regret the whole thing, I’m happier with the way I am. Yes, I almost died plenty of times but I’m healthier and no longer overweight. I know I still have a long road of recovery ahead of me but I plan on taking that head on.