Yes, I know that seems like the most absurd title to read. It seems even more absurd when accepting that it’s the truth. Hi, my name is Sybil, and I’ve suffered from body dysmorphia, anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa beginning at age fifteen leading up until the present. Wow, putting that into words for myself and for the world to read is actually surreal. There’s a certain degree of pressure that’s lifted off my shoulders admitting to myself and to others that yes, I do have a problem, and yes, I do want to fix it.
The thing is, it’s not that easy. I can’t simply just "fix it." I can’t wake up one morning and tell myself, "Sybil, be healthy today." If only it were that simple. You see, during these last four years, my brain has rewired its thinking and most definitely molded my eating habits. I lost fifteen pounds my freshman year of college and in result of that, my stomach shrank substantially. This of course makes things worse now because when I do want to eat, I can barely intake a Chick-fil-a kid’s meal without feeling sick. I carelessly dug myself deeper and deeper into this miserable trench but lately, rock bottom seems to have been hit. When last week my doctor warned me about my organs shutting down due to malnutrition and recommended a feeding tube, I’d say that was my rock bottom. As of today, I’m a whopping 96 pounds standing at 5’9’’. Underweight is an understatement.
To clear up some confusion, I’ve never starved myself and puked simultaneously. Is that even possible? There has been different stages of my disorder and different levels of severity throughout these years. I’m also going to type this loud and clear, I HAVE NOT ONCE THOUGHT I WAS FAT. One more time for the people in the back: I have NEVER thought I was fat. God has blessed me with vision and a mirror. Therefore, I know how I look. It’s commonly mistaken that people who suffer from eating disorders are only doing so because of the typical “I’m too fat” thought. However, that’s certainly not the case with me. Eating – or should I say, the lack of eating – has been the result of stress, anxiety, insecurity and loss.
After my stepfather physically abused me my sophomore year of high school, I was removed from my home and uprooted from family and friends. That was the year I also lost my best friend, my mom. She didn’t pass away, she’s very much alive. But since the event of my abuse, she’s unfortunately been absent from my life and communication has been minimal. At the age of 13, I was also diagnosed with Limb-girdle, Muscular Dystrophy, a neuromuscular disorder causing my upper body to function at about 30% of the average girl my age. This diagnosis alone gradually instilled a fear in me to never gain more weight than I could physically manage.
I could write on and on about how different people and events contributed to the way I am today. But as I type this, I’m more focused on the future than the past. Like I mentioned, I want to get better. I’ve been so incredibly blessed with a supportive family, friends, and a boyfriend who just want back their healthy, happy Syb. By being so transparent on a public platform, I feel more motivated than ever to become healthy again. I encourage others who suffer from anything similar to finally be honest with yourself. Seek help from loved ones. Because believe it or not, it can and will get better. It’s taken me four years to admit this, and it may take four more years to heal, but I’m ready.
