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.


8. Purge, Xan.

I spent all of yesterday in my room, tidying and doing homework. Mum kept bringing up food and drink: fruit, fruit tea, chocolate, biscuits, water- anything to keep me hydrated and fed. She didn't think that all these snacks would put me off of my dinner, but I faked a smile and, when the time came, forced down herb-crusted salmon and new potatoes and a glass of orangeade. It made me feel so sick, but I didn't let the little demons in the back of my head take over. I didn't let myself purge. I didn't exercise either. Instead, I hid under my duvet cover and cried myself to sleep.

My sleep was disorientated and I felt vile this morning. I hid under the covers until ten thirty, then Mum knocked on my door, armed with a cup of tea, toast and a variety of vitamins and my iron tablets. I have to take iron tablets as a consequence of my eating disorder. No matter how much green veg I eat, the doctors are never fully satisfied and continue to tell me that I'm anaemic as well as orthorexic, and now, anorexic.

I hate the word anorexic; anything to do with it makes my hair stand on edge. Thing is, when I was first recovering from Orthorexia, I was in the same ward as a girl with Anorexia. She was in a terrible state. Eventually, she appeared to be making some progress, but one morning, she was dead. Her organs had completely shut down. I never wanted to end up with the same fate as that, and hopefully I won't, but now that I am deemed anorexic, it worries me.

The whole situation has freaked Gretchen out too. Earlier, I was coming out of the bathroom after my shower, and she was hovering by her bedroom door. When she saw me, she surveyed me- my skinny body with all my bones showing, covered with a towel- and ran downstairs. I feel so awful. I didn't want to freak her out like this. She will most probably never trust me again now.

I don't think that anyone will trust me ever again. Both of my parents are treating me like I'm five. They're checking on my every hour, on the hour- which is beginning to get annoying as they keep interrupting the movie I'm watching or the song I'm listening to. And they keep bringing me snacks. I don't know what to do. I can either eat them and purge, or I can refuse them. Either way, it's not going to be a pretty ending.

I still have to tell Deryn and Joel that I've relapsed. They're going to be so annoyed with me. Urgh. I really can't be doing with this right now. I just need a hug and for this all to go away.

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