Jill's Story

My name is Jill. I am 22 years old.

I love to read, write, and spend time with my friends. I have a chameleon and three dogs. I'm a University student, majoring in psychology. I look like I have it all together, but I don't. Because for the past 14 years, my health has been failing.

I have an eating disorder.

I purged for the first time at age 7, long before I could be deeply indoctrinated with the "Thin is In" mentality of the modern media. I had arbitrarily decided that there was something wrong with me, that I was in some sort of danger of losing control, and in a haze found myself leaning over the creek in the forest across the road after dinner one night. Even before this, my memories of childhood are dominated by food; pancakes on Saturday mornings, caramel corn during a thunderstorm, flashlight casting shadows on the ceiling. Sandwiches eaten in a precise number of bites. I do not remember a time in my life, even prior to my obvious turn to eating disordered behaviour, that I was not obsessed with food.

The purging continued as I grew older. I, constantly plagued with dizzy spells and sore throats, began also to binge-eat in addition to purging. I would often spend my entire allowance, birthday money, Christmas money, or cash that I begged from my mother, on food. I would stash food under the couch in my upstairs playroom, and then binge alone in the dark. As I entered my teenage years, I began to gain weight. My neurotic attitudes about food shifted; I became terrified of becoming fat, believing that my weight gain was a red flag to the world that I was weak and undisciplined.

I began cycling through periods of self-starvation and periods of frenzied binge-eating and purging. I abused diet pills and caffeine, even ate raw chicken at one point in an attempt to give myself food poisoning, so desperate was I to drop weight. By age 16 I was losing weight steadily; by age 17 I was surviving on roughly 600 calories a day and weighed 89 lbs- 40 lbs underweight on my 5'4 frame.

I was referred to treatment at this point, but left after two months. I wanted desperately to recover, but was terrified of changing the only thing that had been constant in my life for so long. For the next four years, I battled constantly with my eating disorder, my weight climbing as I binged, and dropping as I starved. I became addicted to ephedrine, spent several hundred dollars on food which I would eat in the silence of my parents' house as they slept, leaving the kitchen only to purge away my paychecks.

A few months ago, I found Cerulean Butterfly, an eating disorders support forum. I was instantly welcomed by the existing members, who were never anything but kind, supportive, and concerned for my well being. I had a place- which was protected, mind you, members only- in which I could talk freely about my eating disorder without being judged. I had briefly been a member of a few recovery forums, but found that since I was not currently active in recovery, I was not entirely comfortable with the atmosphere and had to be very careful with the things I could say, lest I trigger someone in the early stages of their own recovery.

During my time at Cerulean Butterfly, I have tried mostly to offer support and helpful advice to my fellow members, including warnings about the dangers of diet pills, alternatives to high-calorie binges, and support for those who are beginning therapy. Never once have I encouraged any member to pursue dangerous behaviour, to lose weight, to purge, or to hide their disorder from a doctor or family member. I am not pro-ana; An eating disorder is an illness, not a choice. I may not be in recovery at the moment, but I have NEVER taken part in any behaviour that would cause harm to anyone else. I am every bit as opposed to the pro-ana movement as the authors of the Faces of Pro-Ana page, with one exception: I know the difference between pro-ana and eating disordered.

In my own blog, along with the details of my daily struggles, I constantly reiterate the fact that at age 22 I have arthritis, heart problems, decreased bone density, hair loss, anemia, and a host of other problems as a direct result of my eating disorder. I may not have children. I may DIE by age 45. I am very honest about the future that is staring me in the face. For my picture to be plastered across a webpage that proclaims that I am one of the hundreds of so-called "Faces of Pro Ana" is deeply insulting. The only thing I have ever used my experience for is to warn others. There is no glamour here. And judge not, lest ye be judged.