My Eating Disorder. Motivation & Recovery!
Hey guys, welcome back and thanks for tuning in!
Before I go any further on sharing my fitness & lifestyle journey in the present time, I
believe it would be best if I was honest with you and I’d first share a little bit about my
past. What got me here in the first place. At the end of the day we all start from somewhere.
Something either motivates or forces us to do pretty much anything in life, and as much
as I would much rather use motivation as the reason to do everything I do, in this case,
I can’t say I regret being forced into it.
believe it would be best if I was honest with you and I’d first share a little bit about my
past. What got me here in the first place. At the end of the day we all start from somewhere.
Something either motivates or forces us to do pretty much anything in life, and as much
as I would much rather use motivation as the reason to do everything I do, in this case,
I can’t say I regret being forced into it.
If you’ve been here before, you’ve probably read the previous, and first, post of mine,
where I touch a quite sensitive subject about my life. I mentioned that I’ve been through
many highs and lows when it comes to my weight, body image and more importantly,
my mental health. In case you took time to read all the way through it, you probably know,
that like many others, I went through a dark time that I, thank God, got out of. (In
purposes of avoiding any triggerings, I won’t jump into TMI concerning numbers and
traumatic episodes. I’m here to motivate people, not trigger them!)
Also, before we begin, I’d like to point a little disclaimer. Somehow I managed to keep everything super secretive from the ones around me. I’ve never been to a doctor, never been diagnosed with any eating disorder by a specialist. Everything you’re about to read, is my honest, raw experience.
A little back story, before we jump into the actual e.d. part:
I was born in 1999, in a family where the only non-overweight people were my mother
and her brother. Dad, overweight. Grandparents, besides my mom's father, also overweight.
Aunts and uncles… Surprize-surprize. Overweight. Me? You guessed it. Skinny. SKINNY!
My mother and her brother belong to these people whose metabolism keeps on running (got it from their father, who also had the same bodytype), so no matter what they eat, they don’t gain any weight. Barely any fat on them. And for a big part of my life, same thing happened with me.
However, I remember that as a child, I was very picky when it came to my food choices.
I never ate meat, unless it was junk food, and I hated most foods. I actually remember
my younger self saying, when I'd grow up I'd be a vegeterian, even thought I hated
vegetables at that time. All I’d eat was pasta and fries. And of course, tons of junk food.
But, since I was skinny, I never really cared about my unhealthy food choices. And neither
did my parents. Or actually, no. My mom did care. She was literally chasing me around
the house to eat my veggies..
I was quite active, for most of my years in primary school. I did modern dance in a dance school and I would participate in many dance routines we’d do with the girls in my class, or sports/P.E. class. I loved moving around!
Until… puberty.
The skinny, athletic Ria kinda ‘died’ when middle school started. After changing school, I left my dance classes behind. Around the same time, I got my first laptop, which triggered my gaming addiction. Meanwhile, I had my own pocket money so I could now buy even more junk food on my way to school and I’d always go for the unhealthiest choices. Crepes, waffles, pies, chocolate, coco-milk.. Dream life! Or so I thought.
In a school which didn’t care if you would participate in P.E., as long as you’re quite, it was easy for me to skip it and go on the back side with my friends and eat chips. I mean… workout? What? Did you hear what I just said?? My friend had chips with her, lol!
And then came periods & hormonal changes.
Long story short, I somehow found myself in front of a screen, playing games and chewing anything I could possibly get my hands on. Without any kind of activities to burn those calories & hormones changing, my skinny body, which I once took for granted, slowly turned into a fat storage.
Did I care? Nope. Not at all.
Food was too good, for me to care about the fact that the clothes I bought three months ago wouldn't fit anymore.
I’m not sure if there’s a point on this, but maybe here I should mention that food was also my comfort zone. My safe place. As a child, I wasn’t exactly bullied but I felt insecure about the way the others perceived me. I wasn’t very social so it was hard for me to make friends, especially with girls I considered pretty. I never felt like I could fit in with any of them. Popular or not, I was too shy to talk to anyone & for a long time, I blamed this on the wrong reasons. If you’d look inside my head, you’d see that I was only shy because I felt like the ugly duck, between gorgeous swans. Being around them would only make me look uglier. Besides, who would ever talk to the ugly duck?
As time went by and I started putting on even more weight, my parents started noticing. On their efforts to hold me back from getting even bigger, they said things that, in my head, were translated to “you’re fat”,”you’re not good enough”. Being the insecure girl I already was, those words caused me to feel even worse about my looks. I went from the ‘ugly duck’ to the ‘ugly hippo’. But I’m sure, if you’ve ever felt anything similar, you can relate to me when I say that "my comfort was food". The more I ate, the fatter I’d get. The fatter I’d get, the sadder I’d be. And the sadder I was, the more I ate. Somehow, I got into this cycle of “ I’m fat because I eat, I eat because I’m sad, I’m sad because I’m fat,” situation.
My parents tried making me start a sport. I did. I tried my best on playing volleyball but no. That wasn’t my passion. When it would be time for volleyball practice, I wish I was dead. I hated this place, I hated the girls (more like envy their bodies, rather than hate them to be brutally honest) and the coach who kept pushing me, when she knew I could clearly not do this. I’d much rather be wasting my time playing on my pink laptop. But hey… a girl’s got to to what she’s got to do. Weight loss, am I right?
Yeah.. only though, I’d go to the training and return home, to eat three plates of dinner, because I thought, I deserved it for ‘working so hard’. But you can’t outrun three plates of food. My appetite was only getting bigger, and so was I.
And there came bullying. Not from classmates though. Family, friends of my parents, even my grandfather’s obese wife. No one would miss a chance on commenting on how much “chubbier” I looked. It hurt. I remembered how my mom chased me to eat and now she would chase me to prevent me from eating this 5th double-slice-cheese toast I had made for myself.
I wanted that back. I wanted my skinny body back. And I got it. Sort of…
Summer of 2013 I met him! /He/ became my best friend. We would be inseparable. Halfway through the school year, we started dating. Or, at least, the closest thing to dating two 14-year-olds can do. To me, even way before we would be ‘together’ this guy was the closest thing I had to a friend. Friend? More like a brother. In such a short while, he managed to find a way to make me forget about my insecurities and fears. He made me laugh. Believe in myself. No one could ever do that. No one. I trusted him in ways I wouldn’t even trust my best friend at that time. Never have I ever had this connection with another person. He was a basketball player. Body, hot af. Me on the other hand.. not so much.
That was it. He was my motivation! I had to go on a diet.. A guy so hot as him can’t date a whale like me, I thought.
It started pretty well. I asked my mom to make me healthier meals and school snacks and I’d only get 2 euros with me every day, to school. Enough to buy my morning coffee and a bottle of water. If a month, I lost 5kg/11lbs and I couldn’t be any happier. But 5kg/11lbs were not enough. Because I’m short, (5’3”/1,58) this amount of weight, inside my head, wasn’t low enough. Just a little less would be a little bit better, right? But no. The scale seemed to be stuck. No matter what I would do, it wouldn’t get any lower.
Maybe here, I should mention that the amound of weight I had lost, or better yet, how much I'd weigh, wasn't bad. My body was okay. I still was not 'skinny' but you wouldn't call me fat.
Fast forward to the end of the school year, and last year of middle school, “him” and I broke up. The reason? Rumors and trust issues. But.. it makes sense. When you feel like you look like a -3929 and your boyfriend’s (female) best friend says he’s only using you to get the other girl, who’s clearly a 10, you believe her. Right? RIGHT? No, no you fucking don’t but little did I know, this girl was a terrible liar. Nonetheless, we broke up and where did I find comfort? Haha! Yeah.. I didn’t gain back that much weight, but even those 3-4 pounds (1-2kg) were enough to cause my head to turn back into dieting. After all, summer was only a few weeks away.
First year of high school went downhills. They say when you die, you either go to heaven or hell but darling, hell seemed holly compared to my entire high school experience. My insecurities were only getting worse and after losing the only person who knew how to make me smile, I just couldn’t help but consider myself even more of a failure.
The big fish eats the small fish, that’s what they say. It didn’t take too long for the mean girls to smell the weakness in me and of course they wouldn’t miss their chance to put me down. Day after day, my mentality was only getting worse Only one teacher could see the pain in my eyes, and now I can see her concern but back then, I couldn't. I thought she was only asking me because she was another gossip girl, trying to find hot news to talk about with the rest of the teachers.
Self harm begun, in more ways than just drawing red lines on my skin. Before the end of the school year, my parents found out about my ‘drawings’ and that was the beginning of the end.
I hated everything about me. My face, my hair, my character, the way I was the smartest student and everyone called me a nerd, how I pushed away my best friend because of my very own stupid head.. and most importantly, my ugly, fat body. I was never like the rest of the girls. Never. They were all so pretty, thin and tall. With cute clothes, perfect hair.. Always had their nails & make up done. And I… I was just me.
The only reason why people would ever come near me was during tests, to suddently be my friend, cheat on the test and then leave again. And me, being the stupid, needy
girl I was, I let them.
Summer came and I went on holidays. That summer, of 2015 was just the worse summer
of my life. At first, being so happy I was out of high school, in an island, having fun at the
beach with my new body. I mean.. compared to the body I had for the few previous summers,
this one was gorgeous. I had to be grateful, even for that. Besides, by that time, I
had managed to lose these 3-4 pounds I had previously gained, if not more. So, yes it was.
It really was gorgeous. However this confidence went away when I set foot to the beach,
to see all these girls, skinnier, fitter than me. And there started all.
The start of something awful!
That moment, it all got even worse. My calories went even lower. My wordouts, longer. And on my free time, I was either out, walking (in order to burn more cals) or I was just scrolling through Google. ‘How to lose weight’, ‘How to burn 1000 calories’. ‘How’ this, ‘How’ that. Because hey… whatever it is you want to know, all you have to do is google it. Google’s the best doctor after all. It didn’t take too much of an effort for me to come across my first ‘Pro Ana’ website. A dark, obviously old, blog with tips on how… to starve yourself? WTF WAS THAT? I was pissed off. I read just the first lines of the girl’s blog and I already was mad at her. I even remember commenting that what she was doing was harmful in only so many ways. I thought to myself that these things are stupid. Although… if I hated what I was witnessing so much, why did I keep on reading? Comment deleted!
Soon enough, I had read almost all of the girls posts and I had scrolled through all these thispo photos. Those girls seemed so pretty. So elegant… One blog after the other, my mind got poisoned by the bones, sticking out of the girls' skin.
Suddenly it hit me.. That was it. I wanted to lose this weight and I had just found out how. It really didn’t take that long for me to lose it. Before school started, I was already in a very low weight and I felt.. Well, a part of me felt proud but another part of me felt even worse. Not even the tiniest bit for what I was doing to my body but this x number just seemed way too much. I set a goal for myself. Before first day of school I wanted a double digit. I wanted 99. And I made it. Or at least, I almost did. I went to my first day to school at the lowest weight I've ever been and everyone treated me so freaking different. These ‘popular girls’ were now asking for my advice. The guys where now looking at me differently. I was starting to get popular and not for my grades. It was about me, my body! Finally!
With what cost though? It didn’t take too long for my to lose my periods… Three months into this ‘lifestyle’ and I had already lost it. Though, when everyone congratulates you on your weight loss, do you really care about your menstrual cycle? I don’t think so.
My parents were happy. Proud! Their daughter was no longer the fat ass of the family. Their friends, surprised to see me looking ‘so good’. My friends… Well, my ‘classmates’ where either jealous or crushing over me and my elegant collar and hip bones.
Until the scale, again, stopped dropping. It wouldn’t go anywhere below this stupid three-digit number and I was pissed. I didn’t know what it was I was missing. I was on a constant struggle. Eating so little and working out so much.. But no more weight loss. The only loss was hair loss. Hair was falling down like leaves in fall. My nails were breaking like small tiny branches..
All my life consisted at that moment, was water, cucumbers, carrots, fashion shows, magazines, calculations.. BMI, BMR, TDEE... Numbers, numbers, numbers. Restrict, binge, purge & restrict again. And endless circle of hate and guilt. I hated it. I hated every second of it. But at the same time, I loved it. I loved it so much. It gave me a purpose. Something to strive for. Something to work for. I loved the feeling of cold water down my stomach. I loved the way my stomach ached every morning. I LOVED being cold when everyone else was ready to jump to the coldest pool or sea. I loved my pale skin and the bruises on it, poping out, like tattoes. I loved everything about my new friend, Ana.
Now, fuck my gaming addiction. My new addictions were Twitter and YouTube. I was on my ED Twitter account all day long.. Posting, screen shoting. Taking advice. “Welcome to the dark side of Twitter’. And then there was Tumblr, which was even darker. But nothing compared to those YouTube documentaries on eating disorders. Or fashion shows. What could be a bigger inspiration than a Victoria’s Secret Angel walking down the catwalk, looking so flawless!?! Nothing.
This lasted for pretty much a year more.
May I mention here, as a child, and during my early teens, I had only been sick, MAYBE, a couple of times, during real hard winters. I was always the kind of kid to never really have fever. Never have anything but a running nose.
And that right there was my wake up call!
There are not many things I can recall from those days but I can sure as hell remember this one thing. I was in the shower. While having my usual bath, everything around me turned black. I was home alone at that time, so the first reaction was turn the water off, wrap my body with my towel and go lay down on the nearest bed, only to wake up later by the door bell.
But this was not unusual. I was getting nauseous and dizzy a lot more frequently lately, especially during my long runs or my new Zumba classes. Nothing strange here.
Only, a few days later, I had a terrible fever. Who? Me. The girl who never really got sick, was now burning in a fever that caused my skin to feel as if it was on flames. This is a night that will haunt me for the rest of my life, reminding me how important it is to take care of your body if you want it to take care of you. During that time, I made a switch to my diet and went Vegan. It never really was as a way to restrict my calories even more. It was more of an ethical decision, since I had such a huge love for animals. Because of that, I came across one woman, who changed my life forever. Freelee the Banana Girl.
The Recovery & Motivation.
Freelee, for those who may not know, is a YouTuber, and founder of the Raw Till Four lifestyle. A lifestyle, that IS worth to be called ‘LIFEstyle’ unlike any e.d. out there. However, many people claimed to gain weight after following her advice so it really took me lots of research before I’d actually fall for anything she had to say. Nevertheless, after that last sickness I went through, I knew that I wanted to find my way out of this.
After searching many other people’s stories & finally admitting that I wanted to save myself before it was too late, I gave it a go. After all, even if I would gain weight, I knew the way to lose it, fast.
So I did try it out. For quite a while, I was hesitating to do it. The RT4 lifestyle promoted an abundance of calories, mainly coming from fruit. Two big fruit meals for breakfast and lunch and a cooked meal for dinner. The trap on this though was dinner. Dinner had to be oil & salt free. For someone who lives with a family and can’t afford tons of herbs to make food taste good, without any oils or salt this was hard. I followed the ‘rules’ after all. Besides, abundance of calories? With such a past and fear of food, how could I suddently just 'eat'?
Later (winter 2016), I came across a channel called NaturallyStephanie, run by a girl to who I seriously owe my life, Stephanie Moir. Stephanie is a vegan weightlifter, who at that time was following the RT4 lifestyle and she made it look all so easy. The food seemed tasty, her workouts seemed kick ass and she seemed so strong! That inspired me to turn my life around. I wanted that. I wanted to look like that. Not being afraid of food. Not looking skinny and weak. I knew I wanted to look strong. The moment I found the money, I joined the gym for the second time (I had done that before but never really stuck with it). This time though, I promised it would be different. And it
was.
I fell in love with weightlifting. Something about it gave me so much confidence. I felt strong! Unbeatable. All of a sudden, barely ever would I stop on the cardio machines or go to aerobic classes like I used to before. Now it was not about the weight I was losing. It was all about the weight I was lifting. I didn’t care how many calories I’d burn. I only cared about how much heavier I could go. Go big or go home! I loved it so much actually, that I’m planning to get a certification as a personal trainer as soon as possible! Wish me luck!?!
Oh God, it felt so freaking good! I was energetic, I was constantly happy, I was on a mood to workout again. Did I gain weight? Well, the scale said I did, but my body seemed just fine! I was lean, with abs, and the best part, no more bloating! And no more hunger!
It didn’t take too long for me though, to start seeing oil like the great enemy. Soon, I would no longer go out to eat with my friends and when I would have to go, with my family, I’d always ask for oil-free salads. I’d avoid my favourite vegan foods, like the Devil. Not even once in a while as a cheat meal. And slowly this started causing me to feel, again, like crap. And then, binges returned.
For a long period of time, I went from being ‘anorexic’ to ‘orthorexic’ and this, I have to be honest, it sucked less, since I was eating more, but it still was not where I wanted to be. I knew that it was wrong. I feared I would get back to anorexia again and I hated every second. On the other hand, this way of eating seemed so right. My stomach was full, yet again flat, I was having enough calories, barely gained any weight (just enough to bring my BMI to ‘normal’) and that was good, wasn’t it? Plus, my menstrual cycle slowly returned. That meant, I was healthier, didn’t it?
Mentally though, i knew something was still wrong.
And here came my best friend. Besides my ex boyfriend, she is the only real friend I’ve ever had, up to today. This girl, went through a similar situation where she also found herself on the very edge of anorexia nervosa and when I found out, I broke down, crying. Knowing that my best friend, my only real friend in the world, was going through this hell of a sickness I went through myself, broke my heart into millions of pieces. At that moment, I told her my story. I told her everything. Even the slightest of details. Details, that because I don’t want to cause triggerings, I did not analyze here. At that very moment, we made a promise to each other. No more!
No more caloric restrictions. No more fear of food. No more training for two hours a day for 7 days a week. We promised each other to make a fresh start to a healthy lifestyle and just leave everything behind.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘it’s not that easy’. I KNOW. I never said it was easy. And I can’t say I 100% kept my promise at first and I’m sure neither did she. There were days when I’d barely even eat anything, because I felt fat. There were days where I’d binge eat and feel the urge to make myself sick, and I almost would have. There have been times where I totally forgot the promise and did many things to simply suppress my appetite. In the back of my mind though, I
kept saying ‘do it for her'.
Even up to today, this keeps happening. I'm eating perfectly fine now, train as much as I should. However, these voices inside my head, sometimes they wake up. They make me feel guilty for eating a slice of bread, a cookie or even a piece of fruit. They keep screaming, 'get it out, get it out'.
But I don’t. I try my best to stay strong and nourish my body. Going vegan and finding an activity that I love might have been the two things that have ever happened to my life. It feels better. It feels right. As for the oil? Moderation is key.
Am I 100% recovered? Hell no. My mind still has those drawbacks. It often is full of thoughts similar to the ones I had in the past. But I’m getting there and so can you. It’s anything but easy but I can only tell you one thing. You only get one body for the rest of your life. Take care of it. Love it. Nourish it. Life is too short, don’t make it any shorter. Enjoy the slightest bit of it. If you don’t like the way a thing is, do something about it. Change it. Speak up. Because no one else will do it for you. . Find a sport you truly love and go for it. It’s never too late. Change the people you surround yourself with but always keep in mind one thing. It’s up to you. Everything you do in your life is up to you and that includes anything from what you study, to your very own recovery. It doesn’t matter if you join the greatest clinics, it doesn’t matter if you see the best doctors. If you don’t decide to help yourself, no one else can do it for you.
I come from Greece, a country known for it’s philosophy. And you know what my ancestors used to say? You can’t have a healthy body if you don’t have a healthy mind!
Thank you for your time!
xoxo, Ria !
where I touch a quite sensitive subject about my life. I mentioned that I’ve been through
many highs and lows when it comes to my weight, body image and more importantly,
my mental health. In case you took time to read all the way through it, you probably know,
that like many others, I went through a dark time that I, thank God, got out of. (In
purposes of avoiding any triggerings, I won’t jump into TMI concerning numbers and
traumatic episodes. I’m here to motivate people, not trigger them!)
Also, before we begin, I’d like to point a little disclaimer. Somehow I managed to keep everything super secretive from the ones around me. I’ve never been to a doctor, never been diagnosed with any eating disorder by a specialist. Everything you’re about to read, is my honest, raw experience.
I was born in 1999, in a family where the only non-overweight people were my mother
and her brother. Dad, overweight. Grandparents, besides my mom's father, also overweight.
Aunts and uncles… Surprize-surprize. Overweight. Me? You guessed it. Skinny. SKINNY!
My mother and her brother belong to these people whose metabolism keeps on running (got it from their father, who also had the same bodytype), so no matter what they eat, they don’t gain any weight. Barely any fat on them. And for a big part of my life, same thing happened with me.
However, I remember that as a child, I was very picky when it came to my food choices.
I never ate meat, unless it was junk food, and I hated most foods. I actually remember
my younger self saying, when I'd grow up I'd be a vegeterian, even thought I hated
vegetables at that time. All I’d eat was pasta and fries. And of course, tons of junk food.
But, since I was skinny, I never really cared about my unhealthy food choices. And neither
did my parents. Or actually, no. My mom did care. She was literally chasing me around
the house to eat my veggies..
I was quite active, for most of my years in primary school. I did modern dance in a dance school and I would participate in many dance routines we’d do with the girls in my class, or sports/P.E. class. I loved moving around!
Until… puberty.
The skinny, athletic Ria kinda ‘died’ when middle school started. After changing school, I left my dance classes behind. Around the same time, I got my first laptop, which triggered my gaming addiction. Meanwhile, I had my own pocket money so I could now buy even more junk food on my way to school and I’d always go for the unhealthiest choices. Crepes, waffles, pies, chocolate, coco-milk.. Dream life! Or so I thought.
In a school which didn’t care if you would participate in P.E., as long as you’re quite, it was easy for me to skip it and go on the back side with my friends and eat chips. I mean… workout? What? Did you hear what I just said?? My friend had chips with her, lol!
And then came periods & hormonal changes.
Long story short, I somehow found myself in front of a screen, playing games and chewing anything I could possibly get my hands on. Without any kind of activities to burn those calories & hormones changing, my skinny body, which I once took for granted, slowly turned into a fat storage.
Did I care? Nope. Not at all.
Food was too good, for me to care about the fact that the clothes I bought three months ago wouldn't fit anymore.
I’m not sure if there’s a point on this, but maybe here I should mention that food was also my comfort zone. My safe place. As a child, I wasn’t exactly bullied but I felt insecure about the way the others perceived me. I wasn’t very social so it was hard for me to make friends, especially with girls I considered pretty. I never felt like I could fit in with any of them. Popular or not, I was too shy to talk to anyone & for a long time, I blamed this on the wrong reasons. If you’d look inside my head, you’d see that I was only shy because I felt like the ugly duck, between gorgeous swans. Being around them would only make me look uglier. Besides, who would ever talk to the ugly duck?
As time went by and I started putting on even more weight, my parents started noticing. On their efforts to hold me back from getting even bigger, they said things that, in my head, were translated to “you’re fat”,”you’re not good enough”. Being the insecure girl I already was, those words caused me to feel even worse about my looks. I went from the ‘ugly duck’ to the ‘ugly hippo’. But I’m sure, if you’ve ever felt anything similar, you can relate to me when I say that "my comfort was food". The more I ate, the fatter I’d get. The fatter I’d get, the sadder I’d be. And the sadder I was, the more I ate. Somehow, I got into this cycle of “ I’m fat because I eat, I eat because I’m sad, I’m sad because I’m fat,” situation.
My parents tried making me start a sport. I did. I tried my best on playing volleyball but no. That wasn’t my passion. When it would be time for volleyball practice, I wish I was dead. I hated this place, I hated the girls (more like envy their bodies, rather than hate them to be brutally honest) and the coach who kept pushing me, when she knew I could clearly not do this. I’d much rather be wasting my time playing on my pink laptop. But hey… a girl’s got to to what she’s got to do. Weight loss, am I right?
Yeah.. only though, I’d go to the training and return home, to eat three plates of dinner, because I thought, I deserved it for ‘working so hard’. But you can’t outrun three plates of food. My appetite was only getting bigger, and so was I.
And there came bullying. Not from classmates though. Family, friends of my parents, even my grandfather’s obese wife. No one would miss a chance on commenting on how much “chubbier” I looked. It hurt. I remembered how my mom chased me to eat and now she would chase me to prevent me from eating this 5th double-slice-cheese toast I had made for myself.
I wanted that back. I wanted my skinny body back. And I got it. Sort of…
Summer of 2013 I met him! /He/ became my best friend. We would be inseparable. Halfway through the school year, we started dating. Or, at least, the closest thing to dating two 14-year-olds can do. To me, even way before we would be ‘together’ this guy was the closest thing I had to a friend. Friend? More like a brother. In such a short while, he managed to find a way to make me forget about my insecurities and fears. He made me laugh. Believe in myself. No one could ever do that. No one. I trusted him in ways I wouldn’t even trust my best friend at that time. Never have I ever had this connection with another person. He was a basketball player. Body, hot af. Me on the other hand.. not so much.
That was it. He was my motivation! I had to go on a diet.. A guy so hot as him can’t date a whale like me, I thought.
It started pretty well. I asked my mom to make me healthier meals and school snacks and I’d only get 2 euros with me every day, to school. Enough to buy my morning coffee and a bottle of water. If a month, I lost 5kg/11lbs and I couldn’t be any happier. But 5kg/11lbs were not enough. Because I’m short, (5’3”/1,58) this amount of weight, inside my head, wasn’t low enough. Just a little less would be a little bit better, right? But no. The scale seemed to be stuck. No matter what I would do, it wouldn’t get any lower.
Maybe here, I should mention that the amound of weight I had lost, or better yet, how much I'd weigh, wasn't bad. My body was okay. I still was not 'skinny' but you wouldn't call me fat.
Fast forward to the end of the school year, and last year of middle school, “him” and I broke up. The reason? Rumors and trust issues. But.. it makes sense. When you feel like you look like a -3929 and your boyfriend’s (female) best friend says he’s only using you to get the other girl, who’s clearly a 10, you believe her. Right? RIGHT? No, no you fucking don’t but little did I know, this girl was a terrible liar. Nonetheless, we broke up and where did I find comfort? Haha! Yeah.. I didn’t gain back that much weight, but even those 3-4 pounds (1-2kg) were enough to cause my head to turn back into dieting. After all, summer was only a few weeks away.
First year of high school went downhills. They say when you die, you either go to heaven or hell but darling, hell seemed holly compared to my entire high school experience. My insecurities were only getting worse and after losing the only person who knew how to make me smile, I just couldn’t help but consider myself even more of a failure.
The big fish eats the small fish, that’s what they say. It didn’t take too long for the mean girls to smell the weakness in me and of course they wouldn’t miss their chance to put me down. Day after day, my mentality was only getting worse Only one teacher could see the pain in my eyes, and now I can see her concern but back then, I couldn't. I thought she was only asking me because she was another gossip girl, trying to find hot news to talk about with the rest of the teachers.
Self harm begun, in more ways than just drawing red lines on my skin. Before the end of the school year, my parents found out about my ‘drawings’ and that was the beginning of the end.
I hated everything about me. My face, my hair, my character, the way I was the smartest student and everyone called me a nerd, how I pushed away my best friend because of my very own stupid head.. and most importantly, my ugly, fat body. I was never like the rest of the girls. Never. They were all so pretty, thin and tall. With cute clothes, perfect hair.. Always had their nails & make up done. And I… I was just me.
The only reason why people would ever come near me was during tests, to suddently be my friend, cheat on the test and then leave again. And me, being the stupid, needy
girl I was, I let them.
Summer came and I went on holidays. That summer, of 2015 was just the worse summer
of my life. At first, being so happy I was out of high school, in an island, having fun at the
beach with my new body. I mean.. compared to the body I had for the few previous summers,
this one was gorgeous. I had to be grateful, even for that. Besides, by that time, I
had managed to lose these 3-4 pounds I had previously gained, if not more. So, yes it was.
It really was gorgeous. However this confidence went away when I set foot to the beach,
to see all these girls, skinnier, fitter than me. And there started all.
The start of something awful!
That moment, it all got even worse. My calories went even lower. My wordouts, longer. And on my free time, I was either out, walking (in order to burn more cals) or I was just scrolling through Google. ‘How to lose weight’, ‘How to burn 1000 calories’. ‘How’ this, ‘How’ that. Because hey… whatever it is you want to know, all you have to do is google it. Google’s the best doctor after all. It didn’t take too much of an effort for me to come across my first ‘Pro Ana’ website. A dark, obviously old, blog with tips on how… to starve yourself? WTF WAS THAT? I was pissed off. I read just the first lines of the girl’s blog and I already was mad at her. I even remember commenting that what she was doing was harmful in only so many ways. I thought to myself that these things are stupid. Although… if I hated what I was witnessing so much, why did I keep on reading? Comment deleted!
Soon enough, I had read almost all of the girls posts and I had scrolled through all these thispo photos. Those girls seemed so pretty. So elegant… One blog after the other, my mind got poisoned by the bones, sticking out of the girls' skin.
Suddenly it hit me.. That was it. I wanted to lose this weight and I had just found out how. It really didn’t take that long for me to lose it. Before school started, I was already in a very low weight and I felt.. Well, a part of me felt proud but another part of me felt even worse. Not even the tiniest bit for what I was doing to my body but this x number just seemed way too much. I set a goal for myself. Before first day of school I wanted a double digit. I wanted 99. And I made it. Or at least, I almost did. I went to my first day to school at the lowest weight I've ever been and everyone treated me so freaking different. These ‘popular girls’ were now asking for my advice. The guys where now looking at me differently. I was starting to get popular and not for my grades. It was about me, my body! Finally!
With what cost though? It didn’t take too long for my to lose my periods… Three months into this ‘lifestyle’ and I had already lost it. Though, when everyone congratulates you on your weight loss, do you really care about your menstrual cycle? I don’t think so.
My parents were happy. Proud! Their daughter was no longer the fat ass of the family. Their friends, surprised to see me looking ‘so good’. My friends… Well, my ‘classmates’ where either jealous or crushing over me and my elegant collar and hip bones.
Until the scale, again, stopped dropping. It wouldn’t go anywhere below this stupid three-digit number and I was pissed. I didn’t know what it was I was missing. I was on a constant struggle. Eating so little and working out so much.. But no more weight loss. The only loss was hair loss. Hair was falling down like leaves in fall. My nails were breaking like small tiny branches..
All my life consisted at that moment, was water, cucumbers, carrots, fashion shows, magazines, calculations.. BMI, BMR, TDEE... Numbers, numbers, numbers. Restrict, binge, purge & restrict again. And endless circle of hate and guilt. I hated it. I hated every second of it. But at the same time, I loved it. I loved it so much. It gave me a purpose. Something to strive for. Something to work for. I loved the feeling of cold water down my stomach. I loved the way my stomach ached every morning. I LOVED being cold when everyone else was ready to jump to the coldest pool or sea. I loved my pale skin and the bruises on it, poping out, like tattoes. I loved everything about my new friend, Ana.
Now, fuck my gaming addiction. My new addictions were Twitter and YouTube. I was on my ED Twitter account all day long.. Posting, screen shoting. Taking advice. “Welcome to the dark side of Twitter’. And then there was Tumblr, which was even darker. But nothing compared to those YouTube documentaries on eating disorders. Or fashion shows. What could be a bigger inspiration than a Victoria’s Secret Angel walking down the catwalk, looking so flawless!?! Nothing.
This lasted for pretty much a year more.
May I mention here, as a child, and during my early teens, I had only been sick, MAYBE, a couple of times, during real hard winters. I was always the kind of kid to never really have fever. Never have anything but a running nose.
And that right there was my wake up call!
There are not many things I can recall from those days but I can sure as hell remember this one thing. I was in the shower. While having my usual bath, everything around me turned black. I was home alone at that time, so the first reaction was turn the water off, wrap my body with my towel and go lay down on the nearest bed, only to wake up later by the door bell.
But this was not unusual. I was getting nauseous and dizzy a lot more frequently lately, especially during my long runs or my new Zumba classes. Nothing strange here.
Only, a few days later, I had a terrible fever. Who? Me. The girl who never really got sick, was now burning in a fever that caused my skin to feel as if it was on flames. This is a night that will haunt me for the rest of my life, reminding me how important it is to take care of your body if you want it to take care of you. During that time, I made a switch to my diet and went Vegan. It never really was as a way to restrict my calories even more. It was more of an ethical decision, since I had such a huge love for animals. Because of that, I came across one woman, who changed my life forever. Freelee the Banana Girl.
The Recovery & Motivation.
Freelee, for those who may not know, is a YouTuber, and founder of the Raw Till Four lifestyle. A lifestyle, that IS worth to be called ‘LIFEstyle’ unlike any e.d. out there. However, many people claimed to gain weight after following her advice so it really took me lots of research before I’d actually fall for anything she had to say. Nevertheless, after that last sickness I went through, I knew that I wanted to find my way out of this.
After searching many other people’s stories & finally admitting that I wanted to save myself before it was too late, I gave it a go. After all, even if I would gain weight, I knew the way to lose it, fast.
So I did try it out. For quite a while, I was hesitating to do it. The RT4 lifestyle promoted an abundance of calories, mainly coming from fruit. Two big fruit meals for breakfast and lunch and a cooked meal for dinner. The trap on this though was dinner. Dinner had to be oil & salt free. For someone who lives with a family and can’t afford tons of herbs to make food taste good, without any oils or salt this was hard. I followed the ‘rules’ after all. Besides, abundance of calories? With such a past and fear of food, how could I suddently just 'eat'?
Later (winter 2016), I came across a channel called NaturallyStephanie, run by a girl to who I seriously owe my life, Stephanie Moir. Stephanie is a vegan weightlifter, who at that time was following the RT4 lifestyle and she made it look all so easy. The food seemed tasty, her workouts seemed kick ass and she seemed so strong! That inspired me to turn my life around. I wanted that. I wanted to look like that. Not being afraid of food. Not looking skinny and weak. I knew I wanted to look strong. The moment I found the money, I joined the gym for the second time (I had done that before but never really stuck with it). This time though, I promised it would be different. And it
was.
I fell in love with weightlifting. Something about it gave me so much confidence. I felt strong! Unbeatable. All of a sudden, barely ever would I stop on the cardio machines or go to aerobic classes like I used to before. Now it was not about the weight I was losing. It was all about the weight I was lifting. I didn’t care how many calories I’d burn. I only cared about how much heavier I could go. Go big or go home! I loved it so much actually, that I’m planning to get a certification as a personal trainer as soon as possible! Wish me luck!?!
Oh God, it felt so freaking good! I was energetic, I was constantly happy, I was on a mood to workout again. Did I gain weight? Well, the scale said I did, but my body seemed just fine! I was lean, with abs, and the best part, no more bloating! And no more hunger!
It didn’t take too long for me though, to start seeing oil like the great enemy. Soon, I would no longer go out to eat with my friends and when I would have to go, with my family, I’d always ask for oil-free salads. I’d avoid my favourite vegan foods, like the Devil. Not even once in a while as a cheat meal. And slowly this started causing me to feel, again, like crap. And then, binges returned.
For a long period of time, I went from being ‘anorexic’ to ‘orthorexic’ and this, I have to be honest, it sucked less, since I was eating more, but it still was not where I wanted to be. I knew that it was wrong. I feared I would get back to anorexia again and I hated every second. On the other hand, this way of eating seemed so right. My stomach was full, yet again flat, I was having enough calories, barely gained any weight (just enough to bring my BMI to ‘normal’) and that was good, wasn’t it? Plus, my menstrual cycle slowly returned. That meant, I was healthier, didn’t it?
Mentally though, i knew something was still wrong.
And here came my best friend. Besides my ex boyfriend, she is the only real friend I’ve ever had, up to today. This girl, went through a similar situation where she also found herself on the very edge of anorexia nervosa and when I found out, I broke down, crying. Knowing that my best friend, my only real friend in the world, was going through this hell of a sickness I went through myself, broke my heart into millions of pieces. At that moment, I told her my story. I told her everything. Even the slightest of details. Details, that because I don’t want to cause triggerings, I did not analyze here. At that very moment, we made a promise to each other. No more!
No more caloric restrictions. No more fear of food. No more training for two hours a day for 7 days a week. We promised each other to make a fresh start to a healthy lifestyle and just leave everything behind.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘it’s not that easy’. I KNOW. I never said it was easy. And I can’t say I 100% kept my promise at first and I’m sure neither did she. There were days when I’d barely even eat anything, because I felt fat. There were days where I’d binge eat and feel the urge to make myself sick, and I almost would have. There have been times where I totally forgot the promise and did many things to simply suppress my appetite. In the back of my mind though, I
kept saying ‘do it for her'.
Even up to today, this keeps happening. I'm eating perfectly fine now, train as much as I should. However, these voices inside my head, sometimes they wake up. They make me feel guilty for eating a slice of bread, a cookie or even a piece of fruit. They keep screaming, 'get it out, get it out'.
But I don’t. I try my best to stay strong and nourish my body. Going vegan and finding an activity that I love might have been the two things that have ever happened to my life. It feels better. It feels right. As for the oil? Moderation is key.
Am I 100% recovered? Hell no. My mind still has those drawbacks. It often is full of thoughts similar to the ones I had in the past. But I’m getting there and so can you. It’s anything but easy but I can only tell you one thing. You only get one body for the rest of your life. Take care of it. Love it. Nourish it. Life is too short, don’t make it any shorter. Enjoy the slightest bit of it. If you don’t like the way a thing is, do something about it. Change it. Speak up. Because no one else will do it for you. . Find a sport you truly love and go for it. It’s never too late. Change the people you surround yourself with but always keep in mind one thing. It’s up to you. Everything you do in your life is up to you and that includes anything from what you study, to your very own recovery. It doesn’t matter if you join the greatest clinics, it doesn’t matter if you see the best doctors. If you don’t decide to help yourself, no one else can do it for you.
I come from Greece, a country known for it’s philosophy. And you know what my ancestors used to say? You can’t have a healthy body if you don’t have a healthy mind!
Thank you for your time!
xoxo, Ria !
So here goes my story!
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