Orthorexia: How She Changed My Life

I'm Xanthe Freed and I'm another teenager with a secret. Mine is bigger than most. It's not relevant to boys, it's not relevant to bitches. I'm just a girl with a problem- and that problem is Orthorexia Nervosa.
I'm Xanthe Freed and this is my story.


17. Dr Yates

Soon after lunch, I made my way to my appointment with Dr Yates in his office in the east wing of the centre. I passed some more rooms, the other reception room and the workshop. I made a mental note of where the workshop was, and decided to visit after my appointment. All of the other doctors' rooms were in the east wing, but scattered around, so it took me a while to find Dr Yates' office. 

When I'd finally found Dr Yates' office, I took a seat outside and waited for a while. A few girls passed me, coming out of a room at the end of the corridor, which I guessed was used for group counselling. There was still so much to be explored, but my appointment would take a while, so I wouldn't have much time if I was going to visit the workshop.

"Miss Freed?" a voice said. I looked up to see a small, balding man, who was wearing wire rimmed glasses and a suit and tie standing with half of his body in the hallway, and half of his body in his office.

"That's me," I said, standing up from my seat. He shook my hand and ushered me into his office.

His office was nice, with a desk and two chairs and bookshelves with medical journals and thick books on psychology sat on them. It wasn't like any other doctor's office I've ever been in. All the ones I've been in back home are really bare, and clinical, but Dr Yates' office seemed homely, and well used.

"Please, take a seat," Dr Yates said, taking his seat behind the desk. I took my seat across from him, sitting on my hands. "Dr Kauffman sent over your notes... I have to say, Miss Freed, you are a very unique case. I do believe that you will get better, but I don't want you to rush your recovery as it may lead to another relapse, and we certainly don't want that, do we?"

I shook my head. "I tried my best not to do everything I have, but having done it before..."

"I understand."

We discussed my Orthorexia, and my Anorexia, and everything in between. Treatment and recovery was one of the main items on the agenda, next to support groups. I was advised to start with a two support groups a week, with regular check-ups with Dr Yates. I was told to carry on keeping my food diary and activity log, but I was banned from all physical activities.

I left Dr Yates' office with a clear head, and was feeling optimistic. I felt as if I could get out of rehab much sooner than I'd expected. I made a beeline for my room to pick up my art things. Rowan was sat at her desk, books piled high around her.

"Hey," I said, opening my desk drawer and taking out my sketching pad and pencils.

"Oh, hi," she said, rubbing her temples. "What time is it?"


"Oh, shit!" she cried, jumping up from her chair.

"What's wrong?"

"I've missed my appointment with Dr Ballentine!" she yelled and she ran out of the room, leaving me by myself.

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