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.

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12. Rehab

The rest of the week my parents ordered me to stay home. They locked away all the junk food and locked me in the house so that I could't buy anything else. This didn't stop me. I was possessed. It was as if a demon had taken over my body. I didn't know what I was doing most of the time; I just sat in my room and stared out of the window, or, once I knew no one was going to be home at any time, I would climb out of my sister's bedroom window and nip to the corner shop for something to binge on.

My parents found me unconscious on the bathroom floor several times that week from purging. They didn't know why I kept doing it, or how I was getting hold of the food I was bingeing on. By Friday, I was back with Dr Kauffman, discussing my options for rehab.

"She's been bingeing and purging all week. Brady and I have found her on the bathroom floor several times," my mother explained, as if I wasn't there. My brain certainly wasn't.

"And you let her continue this all week?" Dr Kauffman asked.

"Of course we haven't! We have no idea where she is procuring the food she's bingeing off of!"

"Mrs Freed, surely you have some idea."

"No, I don't!"

I tuned out for the next half an hour, only listening when the subject shifted to rehab.

"Well, I was hoping we wouldn't get to this stage so early, but I think we need to talk rehabilitation," Dr Kauffman said. "I know that last time, it was easier for you to attend clinics, rather than going into a centre, but I seriously recommend that you book another appointment early next week so that we can discuss the best location of centres for you."

I grunted. On the way home, I ignored my mum and didn't say hello to my sister when I walked in.

If I was going to go to rehab, I was going to go in at my worst; that way, the only way would be up.

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