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4/22/10 – Intro

My name is Alyssa, and I’m 17 years old. This is the story of my battle with bulimia.

I’ve had a full blown eating disorder since June 2008. I was 15, and not fat in the slightest. In fact, I started out underweight. After several months, what started out as anorexia morphed into a form of bulimia where I was caught in a cycle of binging and restricting. By the beginning of 2009, my disorder had made me so miserable that I decided to tell my P.E. teacher, who also used to have an eating disorder, about my problem. She then notified my parents, who were far from understanding. They knew nothing about eating disorders and were in denial about mine. I was begging for help, but they wouldn’t give it to me, so I told them that I was getting better on my own now, and that I was eating just fine. They believed me until around October, when they finally realized that I had a serious, life-threatening illness. By then, however, I didn’t want to recover and refused the help they offered for most of the month. I finally began seeing a therapist a few days before Halloween, and continued to see her weekly up until February. But, I had absolutely no motivation to recover, and even throughout seeing a therapist, a dietician, and a psychiatrist, I was getting worse. By the time my treatment team and I made the decision to send me to inpatient, I was seriously sick. Not only was I still restricting and binging, but I was also purging by means of vomiting, taking 3-10 times the recommended dose of laxatives, diuretics, and diet pills, and compulsively exercising. In my last week before going inpatient, I had to drink two cups of Pedialyte daily because I was at high risk for heart failure and a grand mal seizure. Finally, on February 8, 2010, I was admitted to an inpatient treatment center in California, which I will refer to as IP.

This contents of this first post were originally recorded during my inpatient stay in two composition notebooks: one for journaling, and one for therapy assignments. Over the course of many weeks, I typed them both up, created this blog, and posted the diaries chronicling the triumphs, struggles, and experiences of recovery. Instead of continuing to add to this blog, I have created an identical blog (I want to separate the inpatient journals from the home ones) which I will continue to update. http://mewithoutmia2.blogspot.com/

To protect their privacy, I have changed the names of all people (other than myself) and places.

Thanks for reading! :)

2/10/10 - Journal

I was admitted to IP two days ago. My mom cried when she left me, but I didn’t. I’m pretty happy to be here, actually. I’m also a bit overwhelmed, but the other girls are really nice. First there’s Andy, my roommate. She’s 15 and from Arizona, too. She’s had an ED since age 10, has been hospitalized 30 times, and this is her fifth treatment center. It’s so sad, but she finally wants recovery for the first time and I have a lot of hope in her. Then there’s Sommer. She turned 17 a few days before I got here. I’m so thankful for her because she reminds me of my friends at home. She’s even more insane than us, but she’s fucking hilarious. She has the strangest, best sense of humour. The kind where even though what she’s saying isn’t funny, it’s still funny. She had bulimia and is completely normal looking weight-wise. Lastly there’s Shaye. She is 14, and had anorexia. She’s a cute girl, but I’m not quite as close to her as I am to the other two girls.

Staff is also great. Everyone is really nice and supportive so far. They’re all in their 20’s and 30’s and super pretty, it’s crazy. My therapist, Julie, is gorgeous. She is really short and really thin and has dark brown hair, olive skin, and these huge brown eyes with long eye lashes. She’s endearing. Then there’s my dietician, Audrey. Oh my God. She’s even prettier than Julie. She’s around 26, thin, naturally very blonde, has her nose pierced and a tattoo on her foot, and has these crazy blue-green eyes that are also humongous. Plus, her smile is beautiful and she’s one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met. I trusted her immediately.

So, the way this place works is that there’s five phases: pre-phase, phase one, phase two, phase three, and phase four (but you don’t have to make it through all the phases to discharge.) I’m on pre-phase. With each phase comes more privileges, like having your ipod or more phone time. On phase three you can even go run errands with staff. Unfortunately, pre-phase means I can’t leave the house, I’m practically on bed rest, and I have 24 hour obs. Having obs means that when I’m going to the bathroom or taking a shower or changing, I have to count aloud with staff listening to me to make sure I’m not purging or exercising or something. I also have to be checked on every 15 minutes during the night. Eventually I’ll get down to 2&2 obs (obs 2 hours after every meal and snack), then 1&1 obs (obs 1 hour after every meal and snack), and finally zero obs. Everyone else but me is on zero. I also have to show staff my pockets and mouth after everything I eat.

Speaking of eating, we eat 6 meals a day here, and our meal plan is based off of exchanges, not calories. My exchanges are 6 starch (bread, pasta…), 5 meat (string cheese, chicken, eggs…), 2 veg, 3 fruit, 3 milk, and 2 fat (peanut butter, oil…). For every meal except for dinner, where we all eat the same thing “family-style”, each person decides what they want and by the end of the day your exchanges have to add up exactly. I’m still on menus, so I plan out what I eat ahead of time, three days a week. Eventually I’ll be on Food Diary like the other girls, where you decide what you want to eat in the moment and just have to write down what you eat, plus your mood & hunger level. You still have to follow your exchanges though. The other thing I’m not on yet is meal prep. The other girls can make their food in the kitchen but I can’t yet- staff has to. By the way, Staff consists of:

- Julie and Sarah: Therapists

- Audrey: Dietician

- Kristin: Doctor

- Anna: Program Director

- Dr. John: Psychiatrist

- Danni: Comes every morning and night to give us meds

- Amy, Kim, Imelda, and Wendy: Counselors

- Tammy and Imelda: CNAs

- Cynthia, Jenna, and Brett: Diet Techs (They make us dinner)

- Jill, Jackie, and Talia: Night Staff

Hmm what else? Well, we go on walks daily, but I can’t go yet being on pre-phase and whatnot. Once I get to exercise level 3 I can go to the gym three times a week, too. I can’t wait to be off of pre-phase. Then I can go on outings with everyone else, like to a museum or movie or something. Wednesday is when our phases/obs/other stuff like meal prep is changed. It’s not always changed, it just depends on your progress.

So, I have individual therapy three times a week, family therapy (over the phone) once a week, and session with Audrey, Kristin, and Dr. John once a week. The rest of the time, we’re either eating, in some sort of group (art therapy, psycho education group, nutrition group, DBT group, process group, etc), or spending our free time doing homework/arts and crafts/sneaking naps on the couch. We aren’t allowed to watch TV, but we can watch movies on the weekend. There’s lots of weird rules like that. For example: we can’t have ice in our water, only 2 glasses of water per meal, elbows on the table at all times during meals, go bed at 9:30 and wake up at 6:30, shower daily, no going in our rooms unless we’re sleeping, but we have to keep them clean, do our own laundry, no sharing clothes, no blankets in the living room, no hoods at the table, wear a hairnet while prepping, etc. And everyday they take our temperature and blood pressure/pulse with one of those awful arm squeezy things. If there is a difference of 30 beats per minute in our pulse standing up vs. lying down, we’re considered “ortho” and have to go on the walk in a wheelchair. Every Monday, we’re weighed backwards in a hospital gown: no undies, no socks, no nothing. Then when Kristin comes, we have to pee in a cup while she’s right there in the room and she puts this little test strip in there. Andy says she always gives our pee a letter grade, like in school. The more dehydrated you are, the worse your grade. I’m probably going to fail because I decided I’m not going to drink water anymore. Since I’m so out of control eating-wise, I have to control something else. I also eat realllyyy slowly. I always finish last, and since we only have a limited time for each meal, I get “boosted” a lot. Boost is this really thick drink that’s supposed to make up for the calories we refuse to eat. It tastes like coffee creamer. I kind of actually like it, but no one else does.

So about the house… it’s quite nice. The neighborhood is pretty much a mansion neighborhood in the middle of the ghetto. I swear. It’s so strange. The house looks like any regular house on the outside, but more… business-like on the inside. Sort of. I mean business-like in the sense that there’s the therapists’ offices and a lot of locks and a lobby-type thing and a sign in sheet. Other than that, the living room and kitchen area look pretty normal. It sort of reminds me of kindergarten. We all have cubbies and there are art supplies everywhere. It’s very colourful and homey. Despite all the rules and food, I think I’m going to really like it here.

2/11/10 – Therapy Assignment

Fear Foods:

· Butter

· Mayonnaise

· Ice cream

· Pastries

· Water

· Liquids with calories

· White breads

· Skin on meat

· Cookies/cake

· Candy bars

· Whole milk/cheese

· Restaurant food

· Fast food

· Peanut butter

· Pizza

· Wings

· Anything I can’t cut up

2/13/10 - Journal

My eating disorder is very angry with me. Angry with me for being at CFD, eating, feeling full, trying to rid of him… I’m being a very bad bulimic. I’m trying (sort of) to want recovery, to enjoy food and fullness, and to go the extra mile for recovery, but it’s hard. Ed is still loud in my head, devising plans and rules: don’t drink water, finish your food last, eat safer foods (whole wheat, 1% milk, etc), exercise while no one is looking, keep burning calories by fidgeting, get out of here and lose weight! This is hard, and it’s only going to get harder. Well, eating is getting easier, but the urge to restrict/purge is getting stronger. The binge urge is gone, however. The eating disorder thinks this is very good- maybe restricting will be easier when I get home. Maybe it’s gone forever, that demon urge. Maybe when I get home, I’ll just go on an innocent little diet. 1500 calories… I want to look thinner. Sicker. Must be thinner.

I haven’t drunk water since being admitted. I’m on water log, they’re threatening me with the hospital, and they told my parents. :/

2/13/10 – Therapy Assignment

Significant Life Events:

· Oct 16 1992: I was born

· Nov 3, 1995: My brother, Easton, was born

· 1998(?): Sexually abused

· 2001: My grandma died

· 2003: Lip-biting year

· 2005: Hit 100 lbs

· 2007: Cut myself once in a while

· Early Spring 2008: Over dieting

· Summer 2008: Eating disorder begins

· Oct 31 2008: I was forgotten about on Halloween

· Dec 2008: Didn’t talk to Micha for a week

· Feb 2009: Coming out about ED p. 1

· Apr 2009: Coming out about ED p. 2

· Apr 13, 2009: Tanner died

· Oct 2009: Coming out about ED p. 3

· Oct 28, 2009: First therapy session

· Feb 8, 2010: Admitted to IP

2/14/10 - Journal

Last night was a turning point for me. All along, I’ve been thinking that I want to recover, but simultaneously holding on to any ED behaviors I could, such as refusing water, body checking, sneaking peeks at my menu plan, cutting food up real small, eating as slowly as possible, finishing meals last, secretly exercising, and sticking to safer foods. Staff noticed all of these things, apparently, so Wendy talked with me last night. She was frustrated at first, telling me that I’m uncooperative and have been doing a lot of things that aren’t acceptable here. She said something a long the lines of “If you don’t take in the help we’re trying to provide, you will be in many more places like this one. You could die. We have had clients who have gone home and died. We don’t work here just for the money or because it’s an easy job, we sincerely care about you girls. We sincerely want to help. I know you shouldn’t be here. You’re a beautiful girl, you should be out in the world doing whatever it is seventeen year olds do. All of you girls should be. You don’t deserve this. Take the help we’re trying to provide.” By the end of this, I was actually crying. But Wendy is right. How can I get better or ever be happy while holding on so tightly to Ed? I could die. I needed to get my shit together, so at night snack, guess what I did? I ate all of my food at a pace that was good for me, and in normal bites. I finished before several people. I drank my whole glass of water, unprompted. I also cried hysterically the entire time, like, on the verge of hyperventilating. Wendy handed me a tissue, which made me cry harder.

Until that night, I had been emotionally numb, but it all started to hit me: I’m fighting my eating disorder. I will never go on another fast or binge or swallow a handful of laxatives or make myself puke. I’m learning to be free, and it’s beyond terrifying. After snack, I walked over to the sofa and started bawling all over again. Sommer sat next to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. Wendy sat down too, and Andy followed. They all praised me and then we just sat there for a little while until Andy started telling her ridiculous stories and had us all nearly peeing our pants in laughter. All in all, it was a really good night.

2/17/10 - Journal

My new challenge from Julie is to write in here daily. Okay…

Well, I don’t really know what to write. It seems like I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t know how I feel or what I want or what I like or what I think or who I am. My head is a wild goose chase, my thoughts. I don’t know what’s real. I don’t know if any of what I just wrote is real or if what’s in my head is… just in my head.

What I do know is that I’m being put on weight gain. What the fuck. I honestly can’t even fathom my needing to gain weight. Like really? I am not that thin. Julie says my view of myself is distorted, but I don’t believe that. I see myself just fine. I need to be thinner, not fatter. Ugh. However, I don’t even know my feelings on this. A part of me is happy because if I need to gain weight, maybe I actually am skinny. Plus, I’m really hungry now so maybe more food won’t be so awful. However, that other part of me is fucking pissed. I DON’T WANT TO GAIN WEIGHT. But it doesn’t feel real yet. I think I’m crazy.

Oh, and guess what? We’re getting a new girl today. I’m nervous. What if she’s insanely, triggeringly thin/beautiful? Or just triggering in general? Or hates me? I wish she’d hurry up and get here.

I feel like shit.

2/17/10 – Therapy Assignment

Question 1

My eating disorder fulfills many “jobs” in my life. These include:

· Providing an outlet from emotions/feelings, anxiety, and boredom

· A way of saying “I’m not okay”

· Keeping my identity as “the thin one”

· Giving me a uniqueness and control

· Getting sick (Begin able to connect with Micha by not having a perfectly happy, ordinary life and I thought that if my life was threatened, she might appreciate my existence)

· Having an obsession (I always need to be obsessing about something)

· Staying a child

· Getting thin

· Being “enough” of something

· Validating my worth

Question 2

My relationship with food is like my relationship with people in the sense that both are rather necessary in life to be healthy and happy, so I restricted both. However, I think the restricting of food led to the restricting of people, rather than paralleled it. Many of the purposes of my eating disorder were served, well… attempted, by restricting people: a way of saying I’m not okay being the main one. One day I was feeling especially low and deleted all computerized forms of communication: myspace, tumblr, twitter, facebook, etc. I almost killed my phone but decided against it.

Question 3

Some good reasons to have an eating disorder, other than the ones I mentioned in question 1, are:

· Perfectionism

· Dieting-obsessed parents

· A way of rebelling

· Thin-based activities such as dancing and modeling

· Under too much pressure

· Needing to suppress a traumatic event, such as rape

Question 4

If my eating disorder could talk, it would tell the world that everyone needs to be thin like the high-fashion models and starving movie stars. He would say that food isn’t necessary, that’s just what they tell you for the sake of money. He would promise to make the world thin (“just don’t eat breakfast…”), beautiful (“you can’t be pretty with all that lard suffocating your cheek bones…”), and rich (“since you won’t be spending much money on food anymore…”). To my family and friends, he would say “Uhm, back the hell off of Alyssa, let her starve and binge and purge herself to death if she wants to, okay? I’m in control, not you. Anyways, she cares more about counting calories and losing weight than she does about you, so why bother with her? Give up.” And to me, Ed would say “Well Alyssa, this is just fantastic. You’ve gotten your fat ass into this house where you’re only going to get fatter. As if you actually need that. Do you have any idea how good I’ve been to you? I’m always here for you, just trying to help out. And this is how you repay me. Ungrateful bitch. Now hightail it out of here before you grow another chin.” He would also tell me that I should be doing secret exercise right now to burn off those extra 10 exchanges.

Question 5

My eating disorder has an infinite amount of rules that sometimes come and go with the specific situation. Here are many of them:

· Don’t drink fluids, especially after 6:00 pm

· Finish eating last

· Plan all your meals in advance, no last minute nonsense; that could lead to a binge

· Count every calorie you consume, even from gum and diet soda

· Constantly be moving somehow for 15 hours of the day

· Don’t sleep more than nine hours; then you aren’t burning sufficient calories in a day

· Don’t sleep less than 6 hours; your appetite will increase

· Take twice the suggested amount of metabolism vitamins

· Don’t eat carbs or fat, etc (endless amounts of diets)

· Weigh yourself naked every morning and make sure all makeup, nail polish, jewelry, lotion, etc is off to not mess up the number

· Don’t let food touch your lips

· Don’t wear lotion; the oils could seep into your skin and turn into fat

· Make sure all toothpaste is out of your mouth after brushing your teeth; who know how many calories that has

· Avoid salt, it causes water retention

Question 6

If I don’t follow one of these rules, I’ll probably binge and gain weight and feel horrible and make myself take laxatives/diuretics/diet pills and over exercise and restrict more the next day. Basically, not following rules just leads to a massive loss of self-control, which leads to more which leads to more… until I’m morbidly obese.

Question 7

Well, it’s not too fun living by a set of ED rules, so I guess if I had to “rewrite” them, they’d be recovery rules, like:

· Accept your body

· Eat when hungry, stop when satisfied

· Take care of and love yourself

· Live life

Question 8

Here are some ways I’ve benefitted from having an eating disorder:

· I might be way fatter right now if it weren’t for all those days I starved myself

· I think I got my “I'm not okay” point across

· I do have a uniqueness in this I guess

· I’ve met so many great people because of this

· I will never have the average perspective on body/food as an adult, or be another woman on another diet

· I’m gaining tons of life/body/self-esteem/nutrition education/skills by being in recovery

· Recovery is providing me with a lot of things the average person never gets to experience

· I’ll have a way better understanding if I have a daughter someday of how to communicate with her and instill the right food/body information in her so that there’s way less chance of her getting an eating disorder

· This entire experience has provided me with a passion for what I want to do in my life: be a therapist for adolescents with eating disorders

· I think I’ll come out of this with a greater appreciation of life and myself

Question 9

I have also suffered from my eating disorder in the following ways:

· Hurting my friends and family

· Physically harming myself

· Missing out on so much of my teenage years

· Missing school to go to treatment

· Making my parents spend all this money on my treatment

· It just sucks that instead of dating or going to parties or having fun with my friends, I was counting calories and binging and weighing myself

· I’ve spent probably a car’s worth of money on laxatives, diet pills, diuretics, binge food, scales, and other diet accessories

· The depression and anxiety it may or may not leave behind

· Losing trust, friends, an understanding in school, etc

Question 10

How do I feel about my eating disorder? Well, I think that like most people with EDs, there are definitely mixed feeling about it. Sometimes it makes me feel happy, giddy, strong, powerful, invincible, unique, and excused from the usual hardships of teenage life, like break-ups. Other times, needless to say, it made me feel like shit: Sick, weak, hungry, fat, depressed, alone, guilty, isolated, shameful, hopeless, lonely, helpless, ugly, frustrated, desperate, angry, and vulnerable. I guess in the end, though, I’d maybe rather have had an eating disorder than not because of everything I’m able to take away from it in the end.

Question 11

My eating disorder has kept me from forming relationships with other people by keeping me at home, isolated. I don’t meet a lot of new people in the first place to form relationships with because I avoid parties, school events, and extracurricular activities as much as possible (these things include food, require other people to– God forbid- look at me, and take up precious time that could otherwise be spent making collages of thins models and scrutinizing every inch of my body). Relationships I already have are also restricted because my friends tend to actually eat, and sleepovers are out of the question most of the time because I need to be home in the morning for my self-imposed weigh-in.

Question 12

What I fear most about recovery is that I will lose anything and everything that made me… me. Thinness and my eating disorder have become my identity. Well, not thinness so much lately, but at least when I still was skinny. I’m also afraid to not fit into my size 0 or 2 or 4 jeans. I’m afraid to live in the real world without the one thing that has kept me (somewhat) sane for so long.

Question 13

My hopes for recovery are to love my body enough to feed it everything is needs and deserves: food, water, fun, and rest. I want to be happy. Mostly, though, I want to live my life and to stop hurting my family and friends. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably let myself waste away in a food-free apartment.

Question 14

Some good reasons to recovery are for health, happiness, and a full life spent on more productive things than obsessing over food and weight.

Question 15

Re-reading my answers, I learned, first of all, that I get way too into writing assignments when I allow myself to do so. Ha… Secondly, I learned that I have no clue as to what life with an eating disorder would be like. Trying to think of why I should recover, besides for my parents, I couldn’t really even grasp the idea of a recovered life for myself enough to see it as something worth obtaining. I’ll just have to take everyone’s word for it, I guess.

2/18/10 - Journal

Good news: The new girl, Abby, is really nice and not triggering. Bad news: Another girl is coming tomorrow for me to worry about! But I’m also excited! (: It’s going to be a full house!

On a different note, today was my first family session. It went alright. Nothing too exciting. We just had to do confrontations to each other. This is the format/example:

I would say:

Sally, when you gave me dirty look,

I felt confused, angry, and hurt

In return, “Sally” would say:

I hear that when I gave you a dirty look,

You felt confused, angry, and hurt,

And that makes me feel apologetic and reassuring that I didn’t mean to give you a dirty look

I’m sick of writing. Goodbye.

2/19/10 - Journal

Okay, so the new girl, Ashley, isn’t too bad, but she isn’t my favourite person in the world. This is her 6^th time in treatment. I don’t know her very well yet though. And guess what? I pooped today!!!!! I was only constipated for like, nearly two weeks. TMI? Oh well. Here, talking about bowel movements is as common and casual as talking about the whether. I felt like shit but now I feel so much better. Today was a fairly good day. I played Where’s Waldo with Wendy. Things are looking up here, but I still have a lot of work to do. My brain and my heart are completely disconnected; I have no idea still as to what I’m really feeling. Right now I feel kind of drunk, actually. Haha. Hmm… I’m bad at feelings. At feeling.

I found out my exchanges as of Monday: 10 starch, 8 meat, 2 veg, 3 fruit, 4 milk, and 4 fat. Kill me now.

Suddenly I feel really bad, overwhelmed again and I don’t know why. I don’t even think it’s about the exchanges. I don’t know. I hate myself, I think.

Okay, so for a non-feeling-related update:

· We’re going to build-a-bear tomorrow

· My daddy is visiting Sunday

· We’re about to watch House

· I might be going to the gym for the first time tomorrow (finally off pre-phase thank God)

· I’m getting attached to this place and several of the people

· Andy is discharging in three weeks ):

· Eating is getting way easier, but I’m just so fucking sick of EATING. I need a day off.

· My therapist is awesome

· I can’t believe I’m on weight gain. I honestly can’t fathom it. I’M NOT THAT GODDAM SKINNY! My thighs are so huge, in fact, that I can’t even look at them when I’m sitting down. I’m bloated and curvy and ick. FML.

2/20/10 - Journal

I went to build-a-bear today with Andy and Sommer. It was fun. This lady asked us all what we wanted to be and we all said “therapist or dietician”, and the lady was all sketched out. We were just laughing awkwardly and sending “help us!” glances to Imelda. Something similar happened at the gym today. This old man asked me why I was sitting down rather than exercising (I’m only allowed 25 minutes of gym time while the other girls have 45), so I told him I got in trouble. Haha. He was a really nice guy though.

You know what I realized at Downtown Disney? I never want to go back into the real world. It smelled like fat and sugar and was just so dirty and chaotic. Plus, there was this really beautiful, skinny girl eating some deep-fried shit and Sommer and I were like WHAT THE HELL HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. Meh.

So, the cat I made at build-a-bear was named “John McCAT” and Sommer’s is “BEARok Obama”. Hah. We’re just so clever.

2/21/10 – Therapy Assignment

I felt loved yesterday when I talked to my parents on the phone. My mom said that my dad had been so sad all week that he didn’t get to talk to me on Tuesday and that he had been pacing back and forth waiting for my call. Never really seeing or hearing about my dad being sad, I felt really loved when I realized my absence could do that to him. But guilty and sad too.

2/23/10 - Journal

Oops, I forgot to write in here that past couple of days. What’s happened? Well, I’m starting to really like this Ashey girl. It’s so sad though (and not to mention triggering) how deep she is into her depression, eating disorder, and suicidal thoughts. She refused to eat last night, and then refused Boost. She cried upon finding out about “Fun Food Friday” and practically had an anxiety attack just thinking about her fear foods (but then again, so did I). Maybe this is contributing to my urges… Lately, I’ve wanted to purge, scream, cry, hurt myself, get out of here, and sink fast back into my eating disorder. Last night I was really tempted to not drink my water.

If my parents didn’t love me so much, I would happily relapse upon returning home.

2/25/10 – Therapy Assignment

Dear Mom and Dad,

While I know that you love me and want only the best for me, some things about you and things that you’ve done have been harmful to me. Mom, when I was young, I felt sometimes like cleaning the house was higher on your to-do-list than spending time with me. You would take me out to lunch if the house was clean. You would watch TV with me if the house was clean. While I know now that you loved me considerably more than washed dishes and swept floors, its hard for an eight-year-old to understand why her mom won’t take her to the park or the zoo like her friends’ moms would. I spent a lot of time at Jenny’s house, wishing you were like her mom: always baking and playing with us. As I got older, though, it seemed like it was me that you were wishing were someone else. In 8^th grade when I decided to wear thick, black eyeliner and shop at Hottopic, you often wondered why I couldn’t dress like Kara or be as nice a girl as Allie or hang out with someone more “normal” than Micha. I remember you crying, begging me to wash the make-up off my face and refusing to buy me clothes from Hottopic, even for my birthday. You bought me Hollister instead. It seems you’ve always tried, to this day, to fit me into a pretty little box; your idea of perfect. “Alyssa, look happy.” “Alyssa, don’t laugh at jokes like that.” Be this. Be that. You’re a smart girl, you can do better than a “B”. Before I came to IP, you said: “I just want my happy-go-lucky girl back.” Are you delusional? I have never been “happy-go-lucky”. I’ve isolated since I was 5, self-harmed since I was 10, and spent a decade of my life inventing ways to keep myself safe from the thing I though was out to get me. You’re too blinded by your idea of who you want me to be to see the imperfections that are your daughter. You love me, but do you know me at all? And Dad. 17 years ago, you set out to raise a child, and that’s exactly what you’ve done. You taught me how to ride a bike, assisted me to every “father-daughter” dance, warned me about drugs and alcohol, supported me in almost every aspect of my life, and made sure I felt loved. In this, you’ve done everything right, but you never really let me get to know you. You are emotionally void most of the time, not showing sadness or pain. You try to rationalize everything, contradicting the confusing, irrational thoughts and feelings of a teenage girl. This would lead to my feeling misunderstood and shot down, so I kept to myself. My relationship with the both of you is difficult to identify and explain, so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make an incredible amount of sense. Please just know that your mistakes and flaws do not make you failures as parents. I love you.

Love, Alyssa

2/26/10 - Journal

Hello. (: I guess sorta a lot has changed since I last journaled. First of all, Andy is discharging next week. Wahh! ): And what else? Well:

· I told Julie about how I would scratch and claw and pull at my flesh because I felt like the fat was growing, and how I would snap the rubber band around my wrist to numb out the emotional pain. She made me sign a safety contract promising that I will no longer engage in such behaviors. This sucks. You really don’t know how much you need something before it’s taken away.

· We went to this restaurant called George’s last night. It wasn’t so bad. I ate my entire portion of grilled chicken, rice, and veggies. I had to concentrate really hard on doing so though. I spent a lot of energy on inspecting my meal for extra ingredients they may have put in there, like butter, despite the fact that Audrey says it’s illegal. People do illegal things all the time. What was hardest was afterwards, when I could feel my fat growing but couldn’t even scratch/claw at it. And the place was filled with seriously obese people, which obviously didn’t help.

· I had family session yesterday. It went alright, except I had to tell my parents all of my triggers and where my secret scale was hidden. My mom was supposedly “looking for something” in my room and “came across” some eating disorder stuff. Ugh. I hate family session. Julie was very supportive though, I love her. Seriously, she’s so endearing, can we trade bodies and faces and hair and lives please? Today in session I told her she’s so skinny and I bet she doesn’t eat French fries and maybe she should be on weight gain instead of me. But then I felt bad because she said she hates looking so little and young because moms of clients have actually refused to let her treat their daughter based off of her physique. Wow.

· I’m going on pass with my mom on Sunday from 1:00-5:30. We’re going to Santa Monica 3^rd Street Promenade. I’m excited but also really scared because I have to “choose my snack in the moment” and eat in from of my mom. But, Audrey sat down with me and helped me pre-plan even though I wasn’t supposed to. I’m getting Jamba Juice.

· Yesterday, it was so sad oh my god. Sommer came back from session and was upset, but then in process group she broke down sobbing. When I put an arm around her, she started thrashing and saying “no no no” and left the room in hysterics. We could hear her wailing all the way down the hall. Then I started crying because I just hate seeing my girls in such anguish. She was dealing with telling Julie the details of all the sexual abuse her brother inflicted. If Sommer’s mom lets him back in the house, Julie will call CPS.

· It’s raining outside and it’s so beautiful.

· Ashley is doing a lot better, she ate a fear food yesterday. I’m so proud of her! She told me that when she was first admitted, she was very intimidated by me, thought I was “the cool girl in the house”, put me up on a pedestal, and thought I’d never want to be friends with her. HA.

· I got on meal prep, 1&1 obs, and ½ food diary (snacks), ½ menus (meals). But I’m cheating this whole “choose in the moment” bullshit. I’m mentally incapable of not pre-planning my food. That seriously sounds so fucking scary.

2/27/10 – Therapy assignment

#1) Ed: You are… really, really fat. Just sayin’.

Alyssa: No I’m not, because if that were true, I wouldn’t be on weight gain.

Ed: If you really needed to gain weight, your thighs wouldn’t touch, your hips wouldn’t jiggle, and your arms wouldn’t look like packed sausages.

Alyssa: Those things are healthy. I need my body to be healthy if I ever want to recover or have children.

Ed: Recover? What a joke. Do you want to be this fat for the rest of your life? Really?

Alyssa: I can recover and not be fat.

Ed: Oh! Good idea. Recover, but go on a diet. Just a regular diet for other, normal people who want to be thin and beautiful. 1300 calories a day, maybe. It will take… 6 months to get to 100 lbs. Not fantastic, but hey, we’re compromising, Sound good?

Alyssa: Yes… no… I don’t know. That sounds like a surefire way of falling back into you.

Ed: >;]

#2) Alyssa: (to self) Hmm… white bread or wheat on my sandwich?

Ed: Wheat, duh. Do you want your insulin to spike and metabolism to plummet?

Alyssa: I wasn’t asking you, and that’s not even true. All foods fit.

Ed: Yeah, all foods fit into size 10 or 12 jeans, but I promise that white bread will most definitely not fit into size 0 or 2 jeans. Which pair would you rather fit into?

Alyssa: My body will fit in whatever pair it needs to be healthy.

Ed: Fine, but for the meantime, be a good girl and just eat the goddam wheat bread.

Alyssa: Okay.

2/27/10 - Journal

It’s storming outside, I love it. Nothing much else interesting happened today otherwise, except I got a lot of school work done. Thank God. This whole school thing is so stressful. I really wish my therapist lived here, and we had like three sessions a day. Haha. I hate being so needy like this. I’m in a weird, scary place. I feel all these things but at the same time, I feel nothing at all. It’s like when you mix a whole bunch of different colors together and they end up just being this ugly, unidentifiable color. Everything but nothing. I hate this.

2/28/10 – Therapy Assignment

What Ed Wants	What I Want
· Lettuce · Sugar-free Jello · Wheat bread · Frozen diet dinners · SF, FF froyo · Skim milk · Diet foods · Whatever will allow the number on the scale to drop	· Salad with dressing and toppings · Any sort of bread · Yummy homemade dinners · Icecream or regular froyo · 1% or 2% milk · Pastries, cereal, etc. · Whatever my body need and wants, in moderation, variation, and balance

3/2/10 - Journal

I’m going home today!!!! Just for the day though. To take the AIMS test. Thank God for AIMS. I get to see my friends and my family and my puppy! EEEE! I’m stoked beyond stoked.

3/6/10 - Journal

So here’s what has happened since/on Tuesday:

· I went to school straight from the airport and saw Kara on the way to the AIMS test room. She screamed and hugged me. I took the test (probably failed) and then went to my English class for a few minutes. Everyone was like “ALYSSAA!” Haha. I found Allie first. Then Chloe. Then Micha and Tina and Molly. Pretty much everyone said something along the lines of “what the hell?!” and then hugged me. I hung out with Allie, Chloe, Micha and Molly later. Caroline, Robin, and Emily couldn’t come over. I ate everything I was supposed to and it was a really great time. You have no idea how happy I was to see everyone (including Micha’s wonderful mommy and cousin). Easton has grown since I’ve been gone! At 5:30, my mom, Allie, and Chloe took me to the airport. They all started crying and texted/called me once I was past security. I was okay until we had been flying for a while, because then I realized I was once again alone and I missed my friends/family. I seriously was hysterical on the plane, and looked like a wreck… well, pretty much all night. I stopped crying for a while until I got back to IP and found out how shitty the day had been: Fun Food Friday would be a surprise, wheat products are now only allowed 3x a week, restaurant would be California Pizza Kitchen, and, worst of all, I guess Julie got a phone call from her seven month old baby, Keagan’s, babysitter… Keagan had stopped breathing. (He’s alight now, thank God.) All of that, on top of saying goodbye again, turned me into a sobbing, wailing, on-the-verge-of-crazy wreck, sitting on the couch with Kim rubbing my back. Bad night.

· I got to phase 2… I can now call friends! And I have phone time daily! And I can have my ipod!!

· “Fun” Food Friday was donuts. Surprise! It was awful. So awful, the fucking therapist had to eat with us. Hahaha. We were a little… hysterical.

· We went to CPK on Thursday. It started off badly, but ended up being really fun. Minus the anxiety and spaghetti. Sommer was being her ridiculous self, so that made everything better.

· Andy discharged yesterday. Shaye is discharging Friday. Sommer is discharging the Tuesday after, and Abby is discharging the day before Sommer. WTF.

· I changed rooms!! I love my new room now. It’s next to Ashley and Abby’s. I have all my drawings and letters from people up on the wall. (:

· I probably get to go to this music fest with Micha at the end of the month because it’s near IP! If I’m still here by then, that is. I hope I will be.

3/7/10 – Therapy Assignment

I am lost

hurting

afraid

angry

sad

too much

not enough

fucked up

really, really confused

jealous

boring

a disappointment

falling apart

weak

dead

I’m not okay

good enough

secure

happy

sure

worthy

smart

beautiful

a good person

a good daughter

a good sister

thin enough

authentic

a leader

I love losing weight

making lists

making diet plans

feeling thin

protruding bones

being bruised

bleeding

micha

music

not eating

reading

writing

therapy assignments ;)

boys AND girls, I think…

unconventional beauty

I’m angry too often

but not enough

when I can’t know

at micha

at my mom

at my brother

when I binge

at my molester

with my thoughts

with my eating disorder

that I’ve hurt people

with my body

at myself

at myself

at myself

I wish I were younger

I were older

I were happy

tanner was still alive

I could feel

I weighed 50-70 lbs less

I never started binging

I weren’t so confused

micha loved me as much I love her

to have perfect grades

to stop hurting people

my parents were rich

I had useful talents

To be a better person

I knew

3/7/10 – Therapy Assignment

1.) I need calories – an acceptable amount of calories – for my body and my mind to thrive & survive

2.) No single food will make me fat

3.) I can eat any foods I want and not gain weight as long as I eat in balance and moderation (all foods fit!)

4.) My body knows what it is doing. I can trust it to store what is needed and burn what is not. As long as my body can trust me to nourish and take care of it, I can trust my body.

5.) Food is meant to be enjoyed and eaten responsibly. It is a key ingredient of healthy & happy. :)

3/8/10 – Therapy Assignment

Need #1: Feeling important/valid. My eating disorder was a way of getting this, mostly or maybe entirely, from Micha by making me sick. If I could get sick, maybe Micha would care for once and I could see if I am important enough to worry about. If that makes sense.

Need #2: Love/affection. Like with the prior need, my ED may have been a way of getting this from Micha by making me sick. Maybe she’d love me if I were dying/dead.

Need #3: Happiness. In my mind, if I could get really thin, I’d be happy. Thin and sick. Because then, not only would Micha care, but I would be beautifully, painfully skinny. Then I’d be happy. Losing weight made me happy. Getting through a day on 200 calories made me happy. People in the girls’ locker room staring in disgust as I changed made me happy because I knew they could see every rib and knot of my spine. I loved how a lot of stores didn’t even carry my jean size, and I loved the gap between my thighs. All of this made me happy for the time being, but made me miserable in the end.

Need #4: An identity/uniqueness. Thinness and bulimia provided this, in my mind.

How it feels to have needs: It’s scary. What if I can never fulfill them?

3/9/10 – Therapy Assignment

My Body:

· Cellulite

· Chubby cheeks

· Double chin

· Too broad of shoulders

· Bulging upper arms

· Back fat

· Arms are too big

· Bloated

· Love handles

· Gross knees

· Big butt

· Giant things

· Pudgy hands

· Big calves

· TOO BIG :(

3/10/10 - Journal

I’m kind of over being here. All of the girls I came here to are going to be gone in six days. Abby too. Then it will be just Ashley and I, who I am not a big fan of at the moment. There's been a lot of tension between us recently. I miss when it was me, Andy, Sommer, and Shaye. Miserably.

3/13/10 - Journal

We have two new girls here!! Bentley and Mia. They’re both anorexic and super skinny, especially Mia. She must weigh 50 lbs max. Seriously, I’ve never seen someone so emaciated, and she’s only 13. It’s so sad. Both girls were in the hospital before they came here. However, neither of them subbed at dinner and neither have been boosted. They’re handling this all incredibly well. I don’t think either of them are as mentally sick as they are physically, but who am I to judge?

Also, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have to go back to my eating disorder when I get home. I have to get as thin as Mia, or Bentley at least. I already have a plan and a diet. I’m very excited, but guilty, too. This is going to kill my parents.

3/13/10 – Therapy Assignment

Dear food and weight obsession.

In order to let you go, I need to find happiness, comfort, love, and safety outside of you. I need to accept my body at a healthy weight and not desire sickness and emaciation.

3/13/10 – Therapy Assignment

I am scared of being alone, being at a healthy weight, and being average. I try to control all of these things though my eating disorder. However, I need to hold on to the knowledge that happiness is more important that losing weight.

3/18/10 – Therapy Assignment

Triggering Situations or Red Flags:

· People commenting on my body

· Skinny people

· Micha

· Buying diet food

· Trying on old jeans

· Body checking

· Being upset

· Stress over school

· Clothes shopping

3/19/10 – Therapy Assignment

Dear Mom and Dad,

I miss you so much. I will never forgive myself for letting my own mind take the life of your daughter. I’m sure it hurts with an impossible intensity that only a parent who has lost a child can understand. You guys don’t deserve this. I hope with all my heart that everyday, my death becomes less painful. This is my own fault, and I am so, so sorry.

Please know that I love you more than my eating disorder, despite the fact that I went back to it. I wasn’t running back into his “warm, loving” arms. I was pushed over the edge and couldn’t stop myself from falling. If I had the choice between being fully recovered, magically, and falling back into my disorder, I would choose recovery… for you guys, if not myself.

Understand that I am happier now. I’m finally free. I wish that this didn’t have to cause so much pain. Please allow yourselves to let me go. You have each other to care for, and my brother; not to mention, yourselves. Go on with life. Mine is over, not yours. I'm finally okay, I love you.

Alyssa

3/19/10 – Therapy Assignment

Dear Alyssa,

Hello! It’s me, your eating disorder. I just wanted to let you know that you’re really, really fat. But it’s okay, I can fix that. As long as you do what I say, I will shed dozens of ugly pounds off of your body. Your face will thin out and hallow until you look like one of those beautiful runway models. Your bones will flare and protrude with grace, and maybe you’ll even look good for once.

However, I must warn you of the downsides: grey/yellow skin, lanugo, hair loss, varicose veins, hypothermia, brittle bones, loss of eye sight, loss of audio, dysfunction of organs, fatigue, insomnia, muscle loss, slow metabolism, dry skin, lack of focus and concentration, infertility, permanent damage to your body and health, and even death. But don’t let all that scare you! I promise it's worth it.

Love, Ed

3/20/10 - Journal

Hmm… I’m in a downward spiral that I can’t get myself out of. I’m falling and have nothing to stop me. There’s this small, small part of me that is searching for something to grab onto, but the rest of me is completely suffocated by my eating disorder. I’m drowning, I think. I’ve been here for nearly a month and a half but my motivation has almost completely evaporated. Everyone sees it. Ashley keeps saying that I’ve “changed”, but that’s a different story…. Apparently I’m “superficial” because I talk with Bentley about boys and parties and music and our interests and… things other than our eating disorders and problems. God forbid. Bentley actually keeps me sane. It’s nice to have some normalcy. Bentley and I are getting really close. She’s such a good friend and influence on me, recovery-wise. I looked at a letter she was writing to one of her friends and she said “…and then there’s Alyssa, my roommate. (: She keeps me sane. She’s beautiful, but doesn’t see it.” I pretty much could describe her the exact same way.

We got 2 new girls yesterday: Ellie and Iesley. Ellie is eighteen and absolutely gorgeous. It’s ridiculous. She’s tan and has this insanely long, brown hair. However, she’s currently sitting on the phone, sobbing, begging her parents to pick her up. Iesley is fourteen and very shy. She’s kind of gothic looking. Black hair, black clothes, bandages on wrists…

One other thing… Ashley (though I’m currently not a big fan) said today: “For the first time, I feel like if I left tomorrow I would have a chance at recovery. I’m going to be okay.” That was relieving, because I do care about her.

I have to poop.

3/20/10 – Therapy Assignment

Dear 13-year-old Alyssa,

Hi, it’s me, your future self. Bet you can’t guess where you be in 3½ years! And if you never want to find out (believe me, you don’t), then there are some things you need to know.

First of all, you’re prettier than you think you are. The braces will come off, the acne will disappear, and your face will thin out. Not to say that you need to thin out, because you don’t. You’re actually a waif. However, don’t let this become your identity. Hurry, find other things you’re fantastic at and be noticed for those things. Micha will love you anyways, but don’t put her up on a pedestal. She isn’t superwoman, either. You’re already falling in love with her and you don’t even realize it. Stop yourself, and save yourself the heartache.

Also, talk to Tanner as much a possible next summer. Don’t be shy. This will be the time you ever see him. Take advantage of every opportunity and savor every moment. Don’t take advantage of being happy; happiness is such a privilege.

Don’t be afraid to act 13. It’s okay that you’ve never been kissed. It’s okay to wear your favourite band’s T-shirt to their concert. Work on loving yourself for your talents and personality, because physical attributes change (and that’s okay, too.) Be assertive, be confident, be yourself. Don’t end up like me.

Love, 17-year-old Alyssa

3/21/10 - Journal

Last night was interesting. Wendy sat us all down and we talked about the issues between Bentley. Mia, and I vs. Ashley. Ashley told me, point blank, that she has no desire to be near me. Uhm, okay. And everyone, mostly staff, says they see Bentley, Mia, and I as a “clique” and that we need to give each other space, which is total bullshit. I just really enjoy their presence and I connect with them most. God forbid. And then I almost started crying because I suddenly felt so alone. Staff is here to support us, but we’re just clients and we come and go. There’s no emotional attachment. And when I find people who I feel close to and care about, we’re shot down for that. I miss being loved.

3/23/10 - Journal

I feel like fucking shit. I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I’ll start by saying that there has been much discussion about my discharge lately. Today, especially. Julie was torn between sending me home in a week or getting my insurance to agree to letting me stay until April 13, but I told her that I am NOT ready at all. Not one bit. Not even close. She thinks I’m more ready than I think I am, which is bullshit. I AM NOT BEING HEARD. Why does nobody believe me when I say that I’m in the fucking shit hole? It’s like Julie is really resistant against me staying here longer, which frustrates me to no end. I wish she’d fucking tell me what she’s thinking about me. I don’t know what’s going on and it’s killing me. I wish I knew whether or not insurance will approve, and what day I will be discharging. But here’s the issue… I don’t think I want to stay for my recovery, and maybe Julie picks up on that. I want to stay longer because the longer I stay, the sicker I was, and the more Micha will miss me. Plus, I don’t want to leave this safety and security and the house and support and, of course, the people. Specifically Audrey, Bentley, and Julie. And my room. Everything. :( I feel so at home here. So safe and okay. I don’t want to leave.

The other thing bugging me is that fucking people aren’t writing me letters. Uhm, hello? Do I still exist? I didn’t fall off the face of the earth, you know.

Also, Bentley and Ellie are getting close. She’s going to replace me, I know it.

But something fantastic happened! I’m on pushaway!!! My eating disorder is beyond stoked.

3/24/10 – Therapy Assignment

If I Am Not Sick…

· I will have nothing substantial to think about

· Micha won’t see me

· I’ll have no outlet

· I’ll have no identity

· I will never be thin

· I will never be enough

· I’ll be ordinary

· There will be nothing to look forward to

· I’ll have nothing

· No one will see me

· I’ll be alone

· No one will care

· Micha won’t pay attention

· I’ll be unsafe

· My family will be happy

3/25/10 – Therapy Assignment

Pro’s of Recovering

Con’s of Recovery

· My parents will be happy · All this money spent on treatment will be worth it to my family · It would really suck if all that has been put into my recovery is wasted · I can have a relatively “normal” senior year and summer · I won’t be risking my life and health · Relapsing would KILL my parents · I don’t have to be either painfully hungry or painfully full all the time · I can get on with life and not risk having an ED forever

· My eating disorder is safe and familiar · I need to get sicker · I have to get thin · My ED keeps my mind occupied · Micha doesn’t care enough yet

3/26/10 - Journal

Last night was restaurant, we went to BJ’s. I had a mini cheese pizza, a side salad, and a bite of pizookie. I only ate ½ of the pizza though. Did I mention I’m on pushaway? Yay! I’m totally abusing it though and Audrey knows it, but she isn’t going to take me off. If I lose weight, she’ll increase my exchanges because eating 100% of 1 cup of cereal is way worse in my mind that eating 50% of 2 cups. It’s weird. I’m seriously so hungry all the time though because I eat no more than 50% of starches, milks, and meats, but I can eat 100% of fruits, veggies, and fats. Sometimes I eat 0% of things like cheesesticks and milk. Today is “fun food (aka fear factor) Friday”, and we’re having cinnamon rolls. I’m actually letting myself eat 100% of it, but only 10% of my milk. It’s pretty bad… I’ve been hardcore planning out my meals/snacks and the percentage I’m going to eat. Oh well, I like planning.

Despite all that, I’m in a better place recovery-wise, I think. Which scares me. I’ve been completely blocking out and not letting myself think any recovery-oriented thoughts, but lately I’ve been letting those thoughts in. Now I need to sit down and really weigh the pro’s and con’s of recovering… and make my final decision.

Also, guess what? Micha and Molly are visiting me tomorrow!!! Just for a few minutes though, to see the house and whatnot. They’re in town for the music fest. I have pass with my dad that day though so I won’t be joining them. I’m just so excited to see them. :)

Lunch sucked yesterday. We ate outside, which was fun, but other than that… no. I had a bean and cheese burrito with carrots. I planned to eat less than 50% of my burrito but ended up eating almost the entire thing. It felt like in my disorder, when I would permit myself to eat one thing and then end up losing control. Afterwards, I felt so guilty that I went in the bathroom and tried to purge. I was a pretty half-assed attempt, though. I still felt better after because I checked in with Julie and at least tried to purge. When Bentley found out, she literally ran at me with her arms outstretched and clamped her hands around my neck, somewhat jokingly. It was funny. I know she cares. :) It’s going to kill me when I have to leave because Bentley and I have become so close. I wish we lived near each other. I think I’m coming to visit her over the summer though. :) She had a really hard time with night snack last night and was full-blown hysterical for the first time. I think that’s good for her though, you know? She has problems expressing emotions.

Julie just came in and pulled me aside to let me know that she talked to my case manager and he’s going to let us know about my discharge on Monday or Wednesday, but there shouldn’t be a problem. And then, when I go home, Amy’s daughter is having heart surgery so she will be out for a while… Therefore, I’m transitioning into an IOP program that I’ll go to 3-4 times a week. Mia goes there too! :D

And guess what? Ashley just informed us that her insurance won’t approve her stay, and she might have to leave today. We’ll see!

3/27/10 – Therapy Assignment

Obstacles in my Recovery:

· My fucked up head

· My fat

· Micha

· Boredom

· Lack of motivation and willpower

· The extremely intense desire to get sicker

3/29/10 - Journal

Wow. Today was just… Wow. It was a rough day, to say the least. A rough weekend.

Micha was supposed to come visit me on Saturday. Come Saturday, she’s running behind schedule and can’t make it until Sunday. Come Sunday, and she can’t come at all. I ended up crying hardcore, like wailing and stuff. It’s not that she didn’t come that upset me exactly. It’s that I’m here because I was killing myself for her and she can’t take 40 minutes out of her day to come and see me. So then I had to re-do all my makeup for pass.

On pass, I had In-N-Out for lunch and my dad refused to eat it with me. He wanted to eat a fucking granola bar. And I’m like, hello? Eating In-N-Out is hard enough for me without you refusing it. I panicked and almost started crying because I didn’t want all those people in there to see me eating alone and think I’m a fatass. I had Starbucks for snack and he didn’t eat that with me either. What he did eat was a fucking soda. He NEVER drinks soda, and the ONE time I’m begging him to let me have a diet coke, he goes and drinks soda right in my face. Fantastic.

And then, today… where to begin. Well, it’s Micha’s birthday. I talked about her with Julie in session today. A lot. I ended up all wailing and whatnot again. Julie was like “I know… I know how hard it is to love somebody who will never love you back.” It sucks. This sucks. But I realized something: No matter how sick I get, Micha will never care about me as much as I want her to. Never. And now my motivation to recover is back, because all that was keeping me in my eating disorder was the desire to get sicker because Micha doesn’t care enough yet. But she never will.

Later today, I was doing my therapy assignment (write a letter to Micha saying anything and I’ve everything I’ve ever wanted to but couldn’t) and was having a really hard time doing so. That was a painful as hell assignment. I was already on the verge of tears when Audrey came outside and was like “what’s up kid?” So, we went up to session and she knew something was wrong, so I asked her if she knew about the “Micha thing.” She said something along the lines of “I know she’s a friend of yours who may not treat you as well as you deserve to be treated, and I know that it may be more than just a friendship…” I explained the whole situation to her and ended up, once again, crying all over the place. She came over and held me while I cried and later, she started tearing up too. She was like “I can’t believe I’m tearing up right now- I’ve seen plenty of clients cry. I’m just so sad for you.”

Later on, Bentley read my thirteen page letter to Micha. When she was done, she just kind of sat there for a while and when I looked up at her she said “I think I’m going to start crying.” So I walked over to her and we hugged and she started crying harder. In between hugs, she would pull back and hold my face or stroke my hair and tell me that I deserve so much better. It’s amazing to me that people can care about me so much.

3/31/10 – Hardest Therapy Assignment Ever

Dear Micha,

Holy shit. I don’t even know where to start. I really don’t. I’m getting sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I guess I’ll just start at the beginning.

You moved to Arizona when you were ten and I was eleven. We weren’t in the same class, but we knew each other thanks to Allie, Chloe, and recess. However, it wasn’t until a year later that we hung out for the first time outside of school. Allie, Stephanie, Chloe, and I slept over at your house. We danced around, watched movies, and ate. I had four slices of pizza, I believe, and these chocolate candies. I fell asleep on your couch while eating one of them and ended up drooling chocolate all over your couch. Hahaha. That was the night you learned that I’m actually a 400lb beast disguised as a 90lb girl. In the middle of the night I woke up freezing cold and all alone in your living room, so I dragged myself upstairs to your room and slept curled up at the foot of your bed because you wouldn’t make room for me. By morning, you had gone and crawled into bed with your mom anyways. I remember everything about that night for some reason, down to the shirt you were wearing: a tie-dyed v-neck with holes in the armpits. That was one of the only times during that school year that we hung out, but you and Chloe were attached at the hip. Previously, Chloe had been my best friend. I don’t remember minding terribly, though. She was always a bitch.

Seventh grade rolled around and we were put in the same homeroom class. At this point, I was a lost 13-year-old with no self-esteem or confidence and did whatever I saw my prettier friends do. You were a self-assured hardass with walls three feet thick built up. We quickly became good friends and I learned from you. You weren’t like anyone I had ever met before. You were the biggest bitch and most kind-hearted person I’d ever met. You were selfish and yet selfless, impossibly closed off but incredibly open. You wore black band shirts and heavy make-up, but wore your hair in pigtails. You weren’t afraid to look the world in the eyes and say “fuck you.” Not to say that you hated everybody and everything- you were friends with almost everyone- but you just didn’t care what other people thought, and it amazed me. I started to become that.

By the end of first semester, you Chloe, and I were inseparable. We were together as much as possible and I was starting to, for the first time in years, felt happy.

I remember the first time you hurt me. It was at that girlscout camping trip in February 2006. I’ll admit, I was clingy. I would rest my head on your shoulder and go where you went. My mom pulled me aside towards the end of the trip and told me that she heard you and Chloe talking about me. You said that you wanted to “gut me like a fish.” when I fell asleep on you in the car on the way up. I didn’t want to believe my mom, but I knew deep down that she was telling the truth. I started keeping my distance from you. I sat by Emma on the car ride home, thus beginning years and years of walking on eggshells with you, longing for a hug or some physical sign that we were best friends rather than business partners. Pretty soon, I was hanging onto any form of a physical connection with you. A joking punch in the arm or quick tug on my wrist would leave me giddy. My favourite memories consist of those where I had slept over at your house the night before and you woke me up by jumping at me, sprawling out on top of me until I woke up. Half the time, I was faking asleep.

Nonetheless, we were becoming closer and closer friends. By the end of 7^th grade, our moms were referring to us as the “Siamese twins”, and Chloe was slowly slipping out of the picture. She and Sam had become best friends and, more than anything, we connected over that. We were Chloe’s two best friends until she ditched us. That summer was spent talking shit about her, basically. At this point, we were inseparable as ever. I would spend days on end at your house and we were only apart when we had to be. We could spend hours and hours just being ridiculous together, and guess what? I was so, so happy. I remember one particular evening when my mom came to pick me up from your house. I was so elated, practically drunk, on just being with you. My mom asked me, “are you in love?” She was kidding, but she was right. Micha, I was in love with you.

Eighth grade had to have been the best and yet the worst year of both of our lives at that point. The end of summer marked the beginning of your decent into depression, though I didn’t realize it until much later on. But, I’m getting ahead of myself…

You convinced me to take dance with you, and we ended up getting the same class hour: 1^st. To this day, it was my favourite class with flying colours, despite the fact that I wasn’t thrilled about dancing at all, at first. On the first day, we all stood in a circle and introduced ourselves. You introduced yourself with your name and “she’s my best friend”, gesturing at me. That was the first time you had ever outwardly acknowledged me as a best friend and I was elated. That still plays in my head sometimes. As days went on, 1^st hour became both of our favourites, partly because we had each other and partly became our teacher was Ms. Peterson. We grew even closer during that hour 5x a week, but at the same time, you were forming other close relationships with Katie and Tina. It started killing me. Our friendship was not yet sacrificed by them in any way, but it still felt like a punch to the gut when I saw you getting as close to others as you were to me. Pretty soon, our group of two turned into a group of four. I wasn’t Katie and Tina’s biggest fan, but I sure as hell acted like it out of fear that you would chose them over me if we were two separate groups. Not say that Katie, Tina, and I didn’t become good friends, because we did.

All the while, we both grew darker. Well, you grew darker and I followed your lead. We were the “emo” kids, who wore black skinny jeans and had choppy “scene” hair and listened to screamo music. My mom hated the change in me and blamed it on you, but of course, I stood up for you. As my relationship with my mom dwindled, my need for you grew. I could confide in you about anything and you actually understood. But, you had issues of your own, which you refused to confide in me about. I didn’t know until later that you were very depressed, walking around trying to numb out the pain you felt. What you didn’t see, though, was my own pain.

All throughout that year, you, Katie, and Tina continued to bond over music… The Maine, in particular. You three went to their first ever show and your friendship skyrocketed from there. Because I didn’t attend the first- and every one of their following- shows, I wasn’t a major part of this. I was a part, however. The four of us would stay up until the early morning, prank calling whichever members of The Maine’s number we managed to get our hands on. One night, I talked to your love interest on the phone for a good hour. You were laughing so hard you collapsed, and you still have the whole thing recorded. There were plenty of other nights like that one, especially when we bought a Ouija board. I still can’t think about 8^th grade without thinking of Ouija boards, haha. I was at your house almost every day, along with Katie and Tina of course, Ouijaing like our lives depended on it. I remember this one night of Ouijaing at Tina’s house. I don’t remember what happened exactly, but you were upset and just wanted me. You took me into the bedroom and started crying. I didn’t hug you, though; I was too scared of being rejected. I just listened. You were frustrated with Katie and Tina. They treated you like shit and they still do. Anyways, we fell asleep like that, in Tina’s bed. When I woke up, you were holding onto my pinky, in your sleep of course. It made me happy to no end, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. Don’t you think it’s a little fucked up that I’m forced to hang on for dear life to such a small, meaningless gesture such as a punch in the arm or contact between out fingers during unconsciousness? I hung on to ever nice word too. I have every somewhat meaningful AIM conversation between you and I saved in a Word document, just to remind myself that part of you, at some point, wanted me.

That was another huge part of 8^th grade- AIM. We talked on it for hours at a time, about anything and everything. My heart leaped with every “ding” of the computer, signaling another message from you. I gave up a lot- family movies, doing homework, going out with other friends- to stay home and talk to you. (Remember that one day when we talking from 12:00pm-5:00am?) Every time the phone rang, every time I got a text, and every time I got an instant message, I crossed my fingers and prayed it was you. I would go to bed at night smiling if we had a good day together, and go to bed sick to my stomach if we hadn’t. I loved when, at two in the morning, I would finally decide to go to bed and you would beg me to stay up and talk to you for a little while longer. I always would.

Despite the fact that we were still attached at the hip, you were also growing closer and closer to Katie and Tina everyday, and Chloe was back in the picture by now. I would see you hug them and want to punch a wall because I didn’t understand what was so wrong with me that you could hug them but not me. You cared about me, but not enough.

I began going to great lengths to get your attention. I would slice my skin open, burn myself, ingest inappropriate things… I swallowed a whole tube of Orajel at your house hoping to have a seizure. I drank ½ a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. I sat on sketchy street corners hoping to be raped. I held by breath, I staged my own “kidnapping” via AIM. I bit through my lip. I punched myself in the ribs with a heavy, metal decoration until I was swollen, bleeding, and bruised. I made up stories. I told you I had cancer. I prayed for cancer. I wore make-up to make myself look sick. I skipped school to worry you. I didn’t answer your calls sometimes. I put soap in my eyes. I told you I might move. I tried breaking my bones. And, eventually, I stopped eating.

All the while, I was bending over backwards for you. I would have given my life just for you to be happy. I did EVERYTHING for you, anything you wanted and even things you didn’t. When your grandpa died, I bawled my eyes out. When you got your period, I would know, because I would wake up with cramps and a backache. That still amazes and mystifies me. And yet, you continued to grow closer to Tina, Katie, Chloe, and, by the end of freshman year, Molly... and further from me. It killed me.

Our fall out caused me pain like you couldn’t imagine. One moment, I’d be perfectly fine, and the next moment, I would be on the floor, wailing and hyperventilating for no particular reason besides my shattered heart. I would dream about you almost every night, often waking up screaming and crying. Just looking at you would send me into internal hysterics. It literally felt like someone was slicing my heart into a million pieces with a butcher knife. I still does, because I still love you with ever goddam morsel of my being.

Don’t you get it? Don’t you fucking see? Micha, I’m dying for you. SEE ME, GODDAMIT. Do SOMETHING because I can’t fucking take this, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve been screaming at you for 4½ years in the form of self-destruction, can’t you HEAR me?!

I’m in rehab. I’m thousands of miles away from all my friends and family, being treated for a disorder that easily could have taken my life, and you still don’t care. You were FIFTEEN goddam minutes away from me for 2 days and didn’t even visit me for five minutes. I’M HERE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO GODDAM MUCH AND YOU CAN’T EVEN PAY ME 35 MINUTES OF YOUR GODDAM DAY. God, Micha. I don’t know what to do with myself. I really don’t.

3/30/10 - Journal

I’m still mind-fucked about yesterday. A lot else has happened too:

· Ashley and I weighed ourselves at the gym. 134.

· I lost weight from pushaway. My exchanges were slightly increased and I’m actually trying to get better now. I really am.

· There was this big thing about Talia, the night staff. We think her boyfriend comes over at night and it was just really funny.

Well, I guess that’s not a lot, but okay. I didn’t call Micha. It was her birthday and I didn’t call her. I feel sick to my stomach.

3/30/10… Again - Journal

I had another meltdown this morning about Micha. I started thinking about her and flashbacks of our good times together as friends started playing through my mind. I began to feel really sad and angry and desperate… I could have broken something… but instead I went into my room and tore down all the photos of her. I went and sat back down at the table with them and started pulling the tape off. Without a word, Bentley started helping. I began to cry lightly, but then I kept crying harder and harder until I was loudly sobbing/wailing, practically screaming. Julie walked in the door right around then. After about five minutes of hysterical crying, I was like “I have to go… I have to go somewhere…” Pretty delusional. Amy took me into the lobby but I just kept crying. Tammy and Amy were rushing around, probably trying to figure out what to do with me. I was hyperventilating so badly I thought they might call 911. Eventually Julie came and got me. I explained how nothing had happened, I was just in so much pain from everything going on with Micha. She said that I don’t deserve to get to such a point that something like this happens, that it’s not okay. I just started crying harder all over again and kept saying her name, wailing into a pillow, pounding my fist. There was too much pain inside of me to contain. There still is. I don’t know what to do with myself. I really don’t.

3/31/10 – Therapy Assignment

I used to believe…

I am worthless

I am average

Micha is perfect

Micha is my best friend

I need to be sick to be cared for

I am ugly

Emaciation with bring me happiness

Some foods are good and some are bad

I am boring

I am undeserving

I will be alone

I would be better off dead

I am unlovable by anyone outside my family

I am fat

Nothing will ever be okay

Now I’m starting to believe…

I can be okay

Micha isn’t good for me

I am worthy

I will be loved

I am beautiful

I will succeed

Happiness is possible while healthy

I am unique

All foods fit

I deserve better than Micha

I can be healthy and cared for

People are capable of understanding me

Micha has flaws

Life can be worth living

I will be okay :)

4/2/10 - Journal

Pretty much, I’ve been having emotional breakdowns every five seconds. Well… that one on Sunday and Monday that I already wrote about and then two more yesterday. The first one started at lunch. We put Lady Gaga on (to drown out Iesley’s wailing) and I started getting myself all worked up about Micha. I was tweaking out and whatnot, shaking and tapping and twitching, barely able to eat, until Audrey was like “Okay, Alyssa and I are going upstairs.” And she let me clear early. I started crying while rinsing my dishes and Audrey was surprised and concerned, I think. I started sobbing as I ran up the stairs to her office and collapsed on the couch. I told her that nothing in particular happened, I was just thinking about Micha. She told me about what a wreck she was after her and her boyfriend of three years broke up over the summer, and promised everything will be okay and made me feel better.

Then, I had family session (right after Audrey told Julie everything). I had to tell my parents that I decided to not be friends with Micha anymore. Then it became 25 times more real and I started sobbing all over again. My parents could hear me on the other line and my mom was crying. She said she wish she were here so she could hug me. Then someone came in and got me because Ashley was discharging. I left her office crying hard as ever and hugged Ashley goodbye. Then I went back, still crying. I knew I shouldn’t have re-done my makeup.

And what else? I talked to Sommer again. Got a letter from her too. We’re worried about Shaye. Last Sommer heard, she was in full-blown relapse. :(

Ashley and I ratted ourselves out to Audrey about weighing ourselves at the gym. Apparently, I weigh less than 134. And also, here’s a tid-bit of mine and Audrey’s conversation when I went up there crying earlier.

Audrey: What happened to your finger? (I had a band-aid on)

Me: I pulled up real fast on the black bean can lid when it was stuck inside and it sliced me.

Audrey: So it was an accident.

Me: Kind of…

Audrey: But you sort of knew that was going to happen.

Me: Yeah.

Self-harm becomes more and more appealing each day. I am a wreck. But, I’m much less of a wreck eating disorder-wise. I don’t want to relapse. Really, I don’t. I was talking to my mom on the phone the other day and telling her about all the lovely foods we must obtain for my return (Nutella, pita bread, tortillas, teddy grahams, banana nut cheerios, caramel praline crunch froyo, etc.), and she was like “you have no idea how happy I am to hear you so excited about food!” Hahaha. Oh, and I’m discharging a week from today, Friday, April 9^th. I’m rather scared and sad, but also excited. SUPER sad to leave Bentley and Audrey especially. But, I’m visiting Bentley for a couple of weeks this summer and I’m incredibly stoked about it. :) Also, I got on no show weights and measures. We went to Chipotle last night and Audrey might take me to Soup Plantation before I discharge. My mom and I are going to Laguna Beach on pass this Easter Sunday and having lunch at The Beach House. Anddd in session with Audrey, she randomly said “I don’t want you to go…” :(

Okay, this is all I can think of to tell right now.

4/2/10 – Therapy Assignment

Dear Bulimia,

I just want to thank you for all you have given me. True that most of what you have given me is negative, but I am even grateful for those things. In the end, I have come out of this as a stronger, wiser, more experienced person. Recovery has provided me with things most people never get: friends who really understand, countless amounts of education on things they don’t teach in school, like self-esteem, and a greater understanding of myself.

However, I have gained everything from you that I can, and I do not intend for us to interact in the future. I’m sure you’ll pop up every now and then, but be warned that your efforts will be in vain and I am stronger than I was two months ago. As much as I appreciate all that I have gained from the experiences you have provided, we are no longer friends and I ask of you to leave me alone from here on out.

Thanks, Alyssa

4/3/10 - Journal

Mmm journaling group. I have nothing to journal about, really.

We went to Build-a-Bear today. My first and last outing. :( How precious. I got a bunny and named it Caramel Praline Crunch, hahaha. That’s my favourite froyo. :)

Last night we were taking photos of ourselves on Ellie’s Mac and got in trouble. Wendy and Tammy were so pissed at us. We wrote them “sorry” letters today.

Discharging will be really bitter-sweet. I’m sad to leave the people, the support, the house… even the psychopath shower. But, I’m excited to see my family and friends and go to school and being free and to start IOP… but I’m really going to miss this place.

We saw raccoon lady today, with her raccoon. :D

I have serious issues with food diary. I seriously just can’t decide what to eat in the moment. Can’t do it. Maybe it’s my ED or my obsession with having things planned out… Idk.

4/6/10 - Journal

It’s Bentley’s birthday today. :) I got her a 15$ surfing magazine and about a thousand letters, all for her to read in specific situations, like when she’s having a bad day. I’m also writing Audrey and all the other girls letters. Damn, I wish I didn’t have to leave her. Anyways, we’re having crepes for Bentley’s birthday dinner and we got to make her a cake. :)

Wow, so… Micha just called me. Here. At IP. She was like “why did you fail to tell me that you’re coming home this week?” and I basically had to be really sketchy and vague. I told her that I can’t see her until Monday at school and that I have something to tell her. She has quite a large hunch that it’s bad. Holy shit. I can’t believe she called.

Okay, back to the update… I’m on no weighing and measuring as of tomorrow. Audrey informed Ellie, Bentley, and I that us four are going to be going to Soup Plantation with Audrey tomorrow. I’m stoked! And I get to find out my weight when I have discharge session with Audrey tomorrow. Restaurant this week is Panda Express and Fun Food Friday is root beer floats… but in the morning so that I can be there. Ew.

Anyways, Ellie ended up talking me through Micha calling. Bentley was asleep. I decided to tell people at school where I really was. Julie advised this.

Random story, but earlier this week, Audrey said that I have discharge session on Wednesday, so I don’t have session on Monday, “right?” She was pretty much prompting me to protest. I informed her that actually, I do have session on Monday, as well as Wednesday. She agreed. :)

Micha called. Holy shit.

4/8/10 - Journal

Last night was intense. Bentley, Ellie, and I went to Soup Plantation with Audrey. It was so so so much fun and such a great experience. I got a salad, chicken noodle soup, a muffin, froyo, and pizza. Haha. 4st, 3mt, 1vg, and 1ft. So worth it. Then Audrey took us past the Lakewood house because we wanted to see it and she used to work there. When we drove by, the girls and staff that Audrey may or may not have known were on their walk and we saw them and Audrey freaked out. Hahaha. It was really funny.

Later that night, I had discharge session with her and it was nice, but then at the end I was like “Nope. I’m not leaving” and Audrey laughed and said I could stay put as long as I wanted, but she still had to do work. Then I started crying and she like “No, no… don’t cry. I’m ignoring the crying girl on the couch!” Haha. Then I went down stairs to have snack. Not long after, it was bed time and time for Audrey to go. The other girls went to bed but I wouldn’t go until Audrey left. She came over to the table to say bye but I started crying a little and then she said “okay, let’s go over to the couch and talk” and she sounded like she might cry. So then I started crying more on the couch and Audrey held me and by then, she was crying too. She said I’m the first client in over a year that she’s cried saying bye to. We seriously sat there for a good 20 minutes or so just talking and crying and she said she told my parents that she didn’t want me to leave and that she’d send me a recipe book. So eventually she said “okay, I’m going to get up now, not because I want to but because otherwise I’ll sit here forever.” So then we stood up and hugged one last time. I cried probably for an hour after that until I fell asleep and then woke up the next morning and started crying all over again and then again writing her another letter and now I’m crying again. Damnit.

4/8/10 – A Copy of Audrey’s Second letter

Sorry I keep writing 1,000,000 letters to you. but I keep on thinking of more to say, because it’s really hard for me to explain to you or even to myself why it was so hard to say goodbye last night. Seriously, I was crying forever after I went to bed and then woke up this morning and started crying all over again. It’s really confusing because the only things I’ve cried over in the past 2 years were my cousin dying, Micha, and things related to my eating disorder. I didn’t even cry saying bye to my parents or when I realized I was going to treatment or when my puppy ran away (don’t worry, she came back. J). Probably because I just attached to you, which is weird because even with like Julie, I told her everything I’ve never told anyone and she’s helped me so much and been so great but I’m not even particularly attached to her and saying goodbye won’t be nearly as hard. So I really don’t know what to say. I guess I’m just trying to make you understand how much you really do mean to me and that this isn’t typical of me at all. I’m going to miss you probably every day for a very long time and I’ll never forget you and one day when you have a husband and a kid and are a stay at home mom or have your own private practice and I’m going to school in California or maybe by then I’ll be an eating disorder therapist, you can just be a lurker and google me and we’ll go out to lunch because by then it won’t be sketchy boundary-crossing territory, okay? And thank you for crying last night because no one I’ve ever gotten attached to has actually gotten attached back (exhibit A: Micha) and I thought no one ever would but you proved me wrong and what the hell Audrey, I’m crying again. Goddamit look what you do to me!! Hahaha :) Now I have to stop writing or I’ll never stop.

Love, Alyssa

P.P.P.S… If you do send me that recipe book, I’ll save you the effort of looking up my address and here are the rest of my stamps because I don’t really need them anymore. (I attached my address and 3 stamps.)

P.P.P.P.S… Okay this is getting ridiculous but I just want to tell you, no more crazy driving or recklessness or any of that because you need to be in A+ condition for when we’re old and go out to lunch!!!

4/9/10 – Journal

I can’t believe this is my last morning here. It’s so sad. I’m more sad about leaving IP than I am excited about going home. This is seriously so depressing. People here understand and they’re substantial and they care. People at home… I don’t know. I love my friends, but they don’t get it and they’re so caught up in their own shallow worlds. Sometimes I feel so lonely. I don’t want to talk to my parents, I hate that. My only hope is IOP.

Goddam, I’ve come to love this place so much. I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE. I miss Audrey. :( WAHHH. And I don’t even have Micha anymore. Luckily, though, Bentley is going on partial today (last night was both of our lasts) and I can text her and stuff. I’m concerned for her though. She’s a wreck about leaving.

Goodbye, IP. You’ve been good to me.