Michele's story - Annihilating Anorexia

Flashback to the year 1981 in a small town in north-western Pennsylvania, in the United States.

I’m 16 years old. I’m shrinking and I don’t know why, but I know intuitively that what is happening is very bad and will not stop.

Anorexia nervosa (AN) is a mind game that just will not quit. A good analogy: it’s like a riptide pulling me into complete and total starvation. I try to fight, but gradually I become too weak, too overwhelmed and too exhausted to fight. There’s a voice inside my head (I call it AN) that won’t let me eat. My growing and developing teenage body is not allowed to have any nourishment. No, I’m not crazy; I just can’t understand why I’m allowing myself to starve.

After eight months of AN taking over my brain, I’m physically in the danger zone. It’s hard to breathe, and my heart feels like it’s going to give out. It’s a herculean effort just getting out of bed in the morning. Upon entering the danger zone, death starts to become a real possibility, and quite honestly, it gets to the point where anything would be better than pushing through another exhausting day, at least in my opinion.

Based on my personal history, I can usually spot someone with anorexia; mostly in grocery stores while they’re perusing food choices that are forbidden by AN. An observation that I’ve noticed consistently is that they never smile. Why? Because they’re in hell; or their own equivalent version of the worst possible reality one can endure.

One dark winter day in March 1981, after eight months of starving myself, a primary care doctor took one look at me and said, ‘she needs to go to the hospital, now’.

Fast forward to 2020. I see what’s happening with young people during the global pandemic. I see posts on social media glorifying a skeletal frame. After four decades of recovery, I could stay silent no longer. I obtained my medical records from 1981 and used them as the starting point for writing down my story. In addition, I read everything I could find about anorexia.

Based on my research, I believe anorexia is a brain-based illness. I read an article (www.theprojectheal.org) that talks about the front centres of the brain which control decision-making, habit formation and self-perception. These areas have a unique profile in the brain of an anorexic. It makes perfect sense, since endless rituals, distorted body image and obsessive-compulsive behaviours are typically seen in people with anorexia.

I published my story, ‘Annihilating Anorexia’, in 2023. I’m living proof that it’s possible to not only survive but thrive after recovering from anorexia. I don’t write much on social media, but I do think it’s important to be truthful. And the truth is that anorexia is a horrible illness. The road to recovery is brutal and so very difficult, but not impossible. Yet, within the pages of my story, along with the nightmare, there is also humour, discovery, growth and lessons learned.

Present day 2026. I’m 61 years old and have enjoyed great health throughout my adult life. Lucky? Yes. But also vigilant, mindful and more importantly, informed about anorexia and how dangerous it is if left untreated. Again, those all-important lessons learned. Knowledge, coupled with effective treatment, can be powerful when anorexia decides to manifest, in the most seductive manner.

One final thought: even though my experience with anorexia was horrific, and I’d like to delete it from my history, it did make me stronger. I annihilated anorexia. You can too.