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.


18. Rowan's Gone

Sketching pad and pencils in hand, I made my way back in the direction of the workshop. It had been empty when I'd passed on my way to and from my appointment with Dr Yates. This was obviously a centre that didn't force patients to participate in arts and crafts like the last place I stayed in.

The workshop was still empty when I arrived, so I pulled a stool from under a bench, pulled it up to the table by the window and started to sketch the gardens outside. I stayed in the workshop for a few hours, undisturbed. A guys started playing football outside, so I stopped my drawing and sat watching. Will wasn't with them, which didn't surprise me. I highly doubted that they would let a body dysmorphia patient continue to overexercise. 

When I checked the time, it was nearly four, so I went back to my room, stopping by the clinic desk so that I could sign up to support groups and group counselling. No one was at the desk, so I wrote my name in a few empty slots in the anorexia support group list, the anorexia group counselling and a mental relief workshop/group session that sounded interesting.

I left the clinic desk and wandered back to my room, having a good nose at all of the rooms I hadn't had chance to look in. The reception room closest to my room seemed pleasant, so I decided to spend some time in there tomorrow. I couldn't draw all day.

Rowan was nowhere to be seen when I arrived back in my room. All of her books were gone from the desk and her toiletries bag was gone from the bathroom. I looked in the wardrobe, but her clothes were gone. Deep down, I was a tiny bit hurt by the quick departure and without a goodbye, but I didn't know why Rowan had left, or how she'd managed to convince her doctor that she was ready to leave.

I plopped down onto my bed, feeling slightly deflated, but as I shoved my pencils in the bedside cabinet, I found a note from Rowan.


Sorry for leaving you in the lurch. You should really have a roomie. But I have final exams to sit. I might see you when I get back.


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