Speaking of so many deep things, tormenting and significant that changed the course of my life...to the most extreme point imaginable.
One day I heard a song by one of my favorite singers, Gloria Estéfan, called "Get on your feet." It was THE motivation I needed. Please listen to it. Turn up your speakers now and listen...then come back...Okay, I started to run again and take care of myself...I felt like a girl once again. As a woman I have such great worth...and I have a lot to offer to the world.
It went to the extreme, though because the exercise took over. I didn't realize the signs that I was experiencing because I was living again...I felt alive again. I didn't realize what was happening. I wanted to have this beautiful body that all the world would admire. It became too much more than I wanted. When I got married, I wanted my husband to always be proud of me....so I pushed myself more and more beyond the limit. I didn't just run..I biked, hiked, I did aerobics EVERY day, six days a week. I just about stopped eating...it was very little...orange juice, chocolate chip cookies and Coca-Cola slurpees... Without realizing it, I was on a path that perhaps would have no return.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I only saw that everything I was doing wasn't working. In my mind, I was not achieving that goal...My body was so weak. I was nauseous all the time...dizzy, sick to my stomach most of the time. I had no energy to do anything. I just wanted to go to bed after I did my exercises...but I had this obsession...
Can you imagine my surprise when I went to the doctor and he came into the room after the exam and he said to me..." Do you realize you're pregnant? What are you doing? Why are you killing yourself and your baby. Why don't you want to give him a chance to live?" So I started crying because I didn't know. I was already three months pregnant but I thought the symptoms were just because of my eating and exercise...I didn't realize I could've been pregnant. I realized I had to stop and I had to recover for my baby. By then, my body was at it's worst state of anorexia- it was rejecting food and the doctor told me it was possible I'd gone beyond the point of no return...that I was dying. I weighed 95 lbs. three months pregnant.
The only cure for that was being in bed most of my pregnancy and the care and dedication of my mother. It was she who spoon-fed me special, nutritious broth...I couldn't hold the spoon and many times couldn't swallow the little bit of broth. I cried every time I ate because I really felt that I was...done. My mother never gave up on me. She kept pushing me to eat...two months of this constant care and my body began to recover...
A combination of many things helped me recover....spiritually, as well. I gave birth to a five and a half pound baby girl. She was my salvation. I lived to give her life...and she in turn, gave me mine.
I can't say that I'm not anorexic anymore. Like many other illnesses, it's not curable but treatable. I've controlled it and it doesn't control me anymore. In times of stress, it comes back with vengeance, but I do eat...not like I was before. Though it's very little, I do eat. i learned I have to balance everything I do. Though I went to different hospitals, doctors, counselors...none of them helped.
I've recovered from all these Beasts I've written about through very simple ways...I will share with you in my next blog..There is a cure....there is a way out. But not with meds or extreme methods of treatment. I will share with you what helped me...The Power in You is the Key.
