Tell Someone

I often wonder why someone didn’t say something earlier. Now that I’m open about my problem, multiple people have come up to me and said how they had always thought I was underweight and are glad I’m getting help

                

Now, I know that talking to someone about their weight is a little awkward and taboo, but eating disorders are slightly time sensitive. The longer you have one before getting into some kind of therapy, the harder it is to recover. Just like with any disease, early detection is critical. Not to mention, it can save someone’s life. 1 in 10 with an eating disorder will die from it, and EDNOS has the highest death rate of any of the disorders.

                

But nobody told me.

                

Not that I’m saying I would’ve wholeheartedly believed an acted on the first warning I was given, but some warning that what I was doing was so dangerous could’ve been beneficial.

                

But nobody told me.

I had gone off birth control when I was reacting badly to a couple of the prescriptions. None of the doctors were able to tell me what was wrong, and we were starting to get very frustrated. They wanted to see how I did if I went off the meds.

                

So it was to everyone’s surprise when I completely stopped having periods.

                

My mom and a few doctors assumed that it was because of my gynecological issues. After all, we already know that something down there is off, why not blame it for my lack of periods as well? So, for the first time, I went to see my current gynecologist. Dr. Macfarlane.

                

I was hesitant to go to a male gynecologist, but my mom always liked him and he was one of the most popular in the city, so I decided to give him a go. He wasn’t at all what I expected: a dorky fella, maybe 5’4”, and talked like a total nerd. Not in a creepy way either. Just some guy who had seen a shitload of vaginas in his time and who nothing would phase. Totally nonthreatening in his manner, and completely matter of fact in conversation.

                

This was the first time I heard the term “runners amenorrhea”, Dr. Macfarlane’s explanation for what caused my lack of periods. Runners amenorrhea is basically when you exercise enough that your body doesn’t have enough stored fat to support periods or a baby.

                

It’s also one of the biggest warning signs of anorexia. But instead of recognizing this phrase as the euphemism it is, I took it as a compliment for being fit. But I wasn’t being fit. I was running my way straight into a living hell.

                

Nobody told me.

                

Nobody told me about being cold in the middle of summer.

                

Nobody told me about being tired 24/7.

                

Nobody told me about my hair falling out.

                

Nobody told me about the long hours at the gym while my friends went out to ice cream.

                

Nobody told me about the self-hate and the self-harm.

                

Nobody told me about the people I would alienate and the opportunities I would pass up and the bridges I would burn.

              

Nobody told me about the panic attacks.

               

Nobody told me about the drill sergeant in my head.

               

Nobody told me that once you have an eating disorder, it never truly goes away. I mean, we can turn the volume down, and try to live a normal life, but the voice is always going to be there.

               

We all have that friend. Tell someone! I know it's hard and I know they'll probably get pissed off. I know I would've totally gotten defensive and angry and all "you don't know what you're talking about", but they have a right to hear. Maybe if they hear enough times "you're sick, please get help" (that's all it needs to be. "Youre skinny" sounds like a compliment to them. Even "you're too skinny" won't compute because to them there's no such thing. "You're sick" is what might have stuck with me.) then they'll actually start thinking about what they're doing.

Nobody told me.

Tell someone!