a lesson about anorexia
please, everyone.
read this. i know my response was long, just please, read through it.
it's an example of ignorance and i think it must be shared.
read this. i know my response was long, just please, read through it.
it's an example of ignorance and i think it must be shared.
THERE IS HOPE! take this encouragment comming from a girl who though she had full scholarship to one of the top five ballet schools in the country, living by herself at age fifteen, kind dedicated student, daughter, and friend; she would wonder the nights walking in time to fiona apple and chopin, crazy eyed with insomnia, digging through trash for "food" (because if someone throws it away it doesn't REALLY count) or shitting blood and water right before curtain call. she could be found sobbing because she ate too much fiber one and tomato paste and thought she was going to hell, and is even arrested for shoplifting lunch meat in the bathroom of giant after two weeks of starvation. binge rampages of running from mcdonalds to 7-eleven to the bakery down the road to eat and eat and eat because she knows soon she will puke and never eat again; then she dances for nine hours and is the perfect everything. but she needs to walk the three miles home at 9pm in right angles, because cutting corners in the sidewalk is CHEATING. she is terrified and wants to die, but is only happy when dancing.... ironically the thing that can not be it seems without her madness.
she decides she may need to leave and start over. she gains a little weight, eats a little better. this is painful because she feels too fat to dance. then can not dance. it is the only part of herself that she likes, knows, is.
she moves to a new city with two non dancer friends. she is going to dance in a small company. she is going to heal herself. she starts to chain smoke and hate herself. one day she feels very fat and does not go to class. she lies and says she sprained her foot to buy time. time to starve. so they will like her if she is very very thin. she is sure she is hiding under a big thick suit that is holding her down slowing her down, hiding her face. she never goes back. she never starves.
her body freaks out. stores fat. her appetite is ravenous with a "who gives a shit attitude". she is miserable. she wants to dance after christmas but in the end doesn't. she can't face it. she buys a scale and cries.
but something is happening. as spring warms up around her, her body comes alive. her eyes light up. her proportions even out. she is small, proportionate, and muscular from dancing. she cuts her hair in an audrey hepburn bob and it begins to grow thick and full and dark again. she starts to be silly again. people adore her for her hilarity and whit, and general performers nature they don't realize comes from years on the stage. people remark she looks vibrant. she feels close to the little girl who she was, and finally feels free to develop into the women she dreamed of becomming as a girl. and independant adult with a gilted painful secret past that gives her just a touch of sad mystery, and wise eyes that have seen.
you see i was that girl. and now i'm not.
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and i promise i'll read your comment in full as soon as i can.
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