My name is Katrina but I go by Trine. I'm 19 soon to be 20 and I have been dealing with a dark demon in my life for the past 2 1/2 years. It seems like it has been this way longer, and ED has taken away all of my memories of what life was like before he became a part of it.
Ever since I was a child I have always been athletic. I was a gymnast, soccer player, dancer and a cheerleader. I was just an average girl with an average life and I was happy. I was never overweight whatsoever and I never even thought about my body. I ate what I wanted when I wanted. Years went by and when I became a cheerleader I remember everyone saying how strong I was and how I could basically do anything. I was proud when I heard this, and thought it was a good thing. I was a muscular girl, but did nothing to really become that way. As I went through elementary school and got older I became insecure with how I looked. I started comparing myself to my friends starting in 6th grade. This was also a critical time because my Mom suddenly passed away. I was 12 years old, just about to begin my adolescence. It was terrifying and confusing to realize that she was gone forever, and I could do nothing about it. At that point I don't think I really understood what was going on, and deep down I was torn, but I saw that my Dad seemed okay so I felt I had to put on a mask and be the same way. I hid my feelings and would never talk about my Mom. It was like I acted like nothing had even happened. People were concerned that I wasn't talking about my feelings but they just let me be. Not even 3 months later my Dad started dating. I was so confused and angry. I didn't know how if he loved my Mom so much that he could move on that quickly. But I didn't say anything about how I felt, I just wanted him to be happy. Dad and Denise got married in October of 2008 and we bought a house together. I honestly don't even remember those years of my life that much. I was numb from the world, and was almost just going along with it and floating through. I appeared happy, but there was a lot that was inside. As I got older I started cheering more, and my body changed. My body became more and more muscular and I noticed. Everyone always commented on how big my muscles were and I hated it. It made me feel so manly and all I wanted was to be thin like my friends with a tall long body, not a short muscular one. I realized that I was a lot bigger than my friends and it made me self conscious. I will never forget one time when a friend from high school would always squeeze my arms and say how big they were. They even asked me if I took steroids because they were so big. This made me feel terrible, and I feel like it has scarred me ever since. In high school it seemed like I was always the biggest one of the group. I didn't like how I looked, but I didn't let it get to the point where I worried about it. I ate what I wanted when I wanted and that was that. No guilt, nothing. I always thought I could get away with eating whatever I wanted because I cheered and worked out so much. I always thought to myself "I'll just work it off at practice." I never let it bother me. Looking back on it I am disgusted by the way I ate. I'm embarrassed. So many unhealthy things all the way from Little Debbie snacks to a serving of tortellini that should have been for 3 people. I don't know how I didn't become obese, but I gained weight I'm sure, but it was mostly muscle from cheering. I was my heaviest around sophomore year but I didn't notice back then. It wasn't until senior year that I really started to change my eating habits and exercise habits. Like I said before I always compared myself to my friends. They were all so pretty and so thin, and part of me hated being around them because I would be so ashamed with myself. I feel like people only talked to me because I was friends with them therefore they had no choice but to talk to me. I have always been really reserved so I didn't talk much to anyone so that made things even harder. Senior year was a great year during the fall. I felt like I was on top of the world having such a great time and enjoying everything. But then after the new year everything suddenly changed. My group of friends started hanging out less and less and me and my best friend started to grow apart for a little while and I formed a new relationship with a younger girl on my cheering team. She became like my little sister, and i spent most of my time with her. I just felt comfortable with her, and I never felt judged for anything. January 2009 was when everything started to change. I really started to cut down what i was eating. I never had breakfast. I brought my lunch to school and I went from bringing a sandwich, chips, a sweet, a fruit and a drink, and usually buying something from the vending machine, to just bringing pretzels and a fruit. But no one noticed or said anything. I tried to hide it, and make it seem like I was normal. I would juts respond by saying I wasn't hungry and that was that. Our school always had bake sales which i always bought something from because i loved sweets, but at that time I wouldn't even touch anything like that. At home I would still have pretty unhealthy dinners because like I said to myself, i would just work it off at practice. But then I started to really compare myself to girls around me at cheering. I knew I was the biggest one, and I wanted to change that but it wasn't important enough to me to make any changes. All I started doing was eating healthier. Then I found myself having to exercise everyday. I would come home from work and go right on the treadmill and do my crunches. This happened throughout the year. I don't know what I weighed exactly but I'm sure I lost weight since my sophomore year, but not in an unhealthy way by any means. This proceeded throughout the spring, until graduation. Then there was the time of graduation parties which meant a lot of food. I remember telling myself I had to save up for the parties because I would be eating alot there, so I did. But that only caused me to overindulge and then feel guilty. During the summer was when things really started changing even more. I started exercising everyday but running 3 miles no matter how hot it was. I would wake up, not have anything to eat, go run, work out some more, come home, have fruit for lunch, work out some more, and have a salad for dinner. Clearly that wasn't alot to eat within a day so that would lead me to over eat at night. I didn't recognize it at the time but I do now looking back on it. But I didn't worry too much since I was working out so much. I started restricting more and more and i was becoming more and more fit. I felt good, I felt slim and people could see a difference. I remember going on vacation and not eating much, or eating too much and I would make it a mandatory thing to exercise everyday no matter what. At this point I realized that I wasn't getting my period anymore but I was happy, and I didn't see anything wrong with it. But I didn't say anything to anyone except close friends. As summer ended I started thinking about college and was sad to leave home and all of my friends. I was scared to move away from all I had known, and I was afraid of changing my lifestyle and making a whole new group of friends. I was also planning to cheer there and I was anxious about that. That was another one of my excuses for working out so much and eating healthier in the summer, because since I wasn't cheering anymore at my old cheering gym, i needed to make sure I stayed in shape, so no one thought anything of it. I went off to school in the Fall at Bridgewater State and it was really hard to adjust. I missed home more than I thought I would have. I felt so out of place, but it seemed like everyone else was enjoying being at school and they were having such a great time that I felt like i needed to show the same. I didn't want people seeing that I missed home. I started cheering and I hated it. I was pure hell and it was far from fun. But I felt that I couldn't quit because i didn't want to disappoint my Dad or anyone else, and besides what else would I do. I mean my whole life I was known as being a cheerleader and without that I would be a nobody. So I dealt with it and pretended that everything was fine. I became more and more self conscious and I started isolating myself. I started going to the dining hall less and less and if i did go i would only get a salad every time while I drooled over my friends getting burgers and fries. I would bring back so much fruit to my room because that's basically all that I ate. I started making up excuses and stopped going to the dining hall all together. I wouldn't have breakfast. All I would allow myself to have was a bottle of crystal light and a pack of gum. For lunch i would go back to my room and have fruit and maybe cereal and more gum, and then I didn't have dinner. If anything it would be cereal, or more gum. I went through a pack ever few days but i thought nothing of it. I went to the gym every single day and made myself run no matter what. I would even run on the days before i had to go to cheering. I would be at the gym for almost 2 hours everyday and I wouldn't let myself ever rest. Working out was more important. All I focused on was my body, but I wasn't realizing how much it was changing. I was still cheering but was becoming weaker and weaker. I remember getting complimented on how small my legs looked, and i loved it. There were times when friends came up to visit me but I went out to eat with them like I normally would have, and they didn't say anything about my appearance. On Columbus Day weekend I went home and was really excited to see everyone. I went to my old cheering gym and the first thing my bestfriend said to me was how small my legs looked. I was happy. I remember getting ready, trying a million different things on to make sure that I looked as skinny as I possibly could. I walked in and everyone said how good I looked. I thought to myself well, I must be doing something right. It made me feel really good and I didn't want that feeling to go away. Although I was really anxious being home because that meant no gym, but I made sure to workout in my room. I remember weighing myself just because I was curious to see what the number would be and when I stepped on the scale my mouth literally dropped. I stepped on and off a million times just to make sure that what I saw was true. I had lost 15 lbs and I couldn't believe it. I was happy, but that wasn't good enough for me. Dad and Denise didn't even mention anything about my weight loss, they weren't suspicious of anything because I was having family meals with them. They asked what I wanted and I made sure it was a salad. They didn't think anything of it. It was time to go back to school and I was so depressed. I felt so alone at school. I remember I had cheering that night, and I was dreading it. Then that's where everything took a turn for the worst. We were practicing and I started doing a skill that I had been able to do so easily for years, and I totally messed up. I was shocked but thought it was just a fluke so I tried it again, only for the same thing to happen. What was wrong with me? I thought to myself? Why is this happening? I felt so embarrassed and I couldn't help but break down and cry. At that moment I was filled with fear and I didn't know where to turn. I just felt so weak. I was so scared that I went back to my dorm room and called my old coach to tell her what had happened. She asked me if anything had been going on with me, and all of a sudden it came out; "I've been having a hard time eating." After I said it I couldn't believe that I did. But part of me felt relieved. She said she would come down to talk to me about things, and she did and told me that I needed to tell Dad and Denise. I remember holding the phone crying and shaking and it took me forever to just spit the words out. They were shocked. I told them I needed to come home, so I packed some stuff up, told my roommates I had a personal thing I had to deal with, called my cheering coach and told him I wouldn't be cheering anymore because of it, and then I left. I couldn't believe all of this was happening. My whole world was taking a huge turn for the worse. I didn't know what to expect.
I came home and went to the doctor, and she diagnosed me with Anorexia. Part of me knew I had a problem with eating, but I didn't think it was as serious as an eating disorder. I mean to me people with eating disorders are so sickly thin, and I was nothing near that. A mother of an old cheering friend had heard about it and contacted Denise recommending a good doctor that her daughter saw. We went to see her, and she sent me to the hospital. I was scared, I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't think it would be that bad. I remember loving staying at the hospital when I was a kid, but this was the total opposite. I sat in the room with Dad and Denise as I held the rules of the program in my hand. 1. Must stay in bed all day 2. can't use the bathroom 3. Has to follow a meal plan, and if refuses to eat must be given a supplement, and if refuses that must be tube fed 4. Must eat within 30 minutes 5. Can only use phone or laptop by earning privileges, which meant gaining 1/2lb a day 6. Had to earn the privileges of having any visitors etc. I started balling. I couldn't do this. I couldn't do this. But I had no choice. I stayed there for about a week or two and then they suggested that maybe I participate in an intensive outpatient program where I would go in the evenings and have a meal and they would monitor my weight. I really had no choice, so I tried it, but kept losing weight, restricting when I wasn't there, and obsessively exercising so they made me step up to the more intense day program which is basically like school, with people watching your every move. I manipulated it. I hated being there. I hid my food and no one found out, but I kept losing weight so they stepped me up to residential. I cried and cried and cried. I didn't want to leave home and live somewhere for months. How was I going to exercise? How was I going to restrict? It was hell. I manipulated my way through it, didn't eat, lost weight, but they sent me back to partial because of insurance. I was happy. After a few weeks I decided to sign myself out of partial since I could because I was 18. It was spontaneous and I was just sick of all of this bullshit and people telling me what to do. Dad wasn't happy, either was Denise. My doctor especially wasn't happy, and after only about a week or so of being home I had to be sent to the hospital for losing more weight. I went back to the same place so I knew what to expect, but i was dreading it. I knew I was going to manipulate the system even more, and that I did. I was there for about a week and a half, and then was sent to Klarman another residential facility. I was scared. It was so far from home, and after my last experience in residential I wanted nothing to do with it. I went there and hated it. More than the last place I was at. The rooms were locked more often and it felt like high school. The girls were so catty and mean and it was a constant competition versus a supportive environment. I was scared. I had to eat so much, but I hid food, exercised, and even changed my menus without anyone knowing. I was a lying deceitful person. I got tattled on, and hated everyone. I was always alone with ED listening to him. I wasn't gaining weight like i should have been either. I made a connection with one girl who was there who I was actually at Walden with and it was good to have her. She got me through so much, and I'm still close to her now. I finally got to my weight range after months and I could start going on passes and I went home. I found the scale and weighed myself, expecting to see a number that I thought my range would be but to mys surprise it was significantly higher. I failed to eat on my pass and i was so upset. I felt betrayed and lied to. I went back to the unit, didn't eat, and was depressed. I stepped down to partial which mean I got to sleep at home. It was a pain driving back and forth, I was so tired all of the time. I didn't eat my snack at home and it caused me to lose weight. I ran away one day and drove to see my bestriend at BU in Boston. Denise had called me because the unit called her, and she had no choice but to tell them where I was, and the police came and brought me back. I went back and felt ashamed. I refused to go into any meals or snacks because I didn't care. i was so depressed and severely suicidal. I told the staff that I couldn't stay there, that I would hurt myself if I did. They sent me to a psych unit across the street and I was there for a week. They planned on me going back to Klarman but I refused. While I was at Proctor, since it wasn't an eating disorder unit I lost 7lbs in a week. having nothing but water, gum, and if I was brave enough an orange. I was so weak, and it was the first time I collapsed and blacked out. But that didn't scare me, I told everyone I was fine. I convinced everyone that I was ready to change and that I would really try if I came home. They trusted me, and brought me home to work outpatient. I actually did well for a while, but then out of nowhere I slipped down so far and couldn't pull myself back up. My doctor made me go back to Walden to their partial program and I still manipulated my way through it. I would eat the least amount of calories I could there, and even hide some food, and then I would come home only to exercise and have a 100 calorie dinner. Dad didn't catch on, but the program did. I was drastically losing weight, but I was water loading before I got weighed. But I just kept losing and they told me that if over the weekend I lost more I would have to go back to residential. I freaked out and signed myself out again. I called Denise and told her that I wanted to try something new. I had the thought in my head that I wanted to get away and go to a different state to get treatment. My heart was set on it. Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure it was just an escape. I researched and researched and found a place that I really wanted to go. For some reason it didn't seem like their treatment would be that hard to handle. You could exercise, and they cooked only healthy meals. I was all for it. But Dad wasn't. It would cost all of my college money, 40,000 dollars to go there and get treatment for only one month, and it usually takes a longer time than that. It was a risk and Dad was fighting me for it. He thought I should try everything around here first and then consider something like that. I didn't know what to do. Also during this time I wasn't seeing a doctor or anything and it was about 2 weeks before I did. I went to see my doctor and she was furious. Denise came with me and she yelled at her for letting me starve myself to death. This was the lowest I had ever been, and it was the worst condition I had been in. It was so bad that only half of my heart was working, but that didn't scare me. She made me go back to the hospital and there was nothing but tears. I thought to myself "Oh no not this again." But this time it was even worse. I stayed for 2 weeks and was on bed rest the entire time. Instead of just having someone watch me during my meals and snacks, there was ALWAYS someone with me, so i couldn't get away with exercising. I was screwed and freaking out. I still managed to get away with stuff because I just didn't want to get better. I was fighting it. I was forced to eat so much and I was suicidal. Right before I went in to the hospital I cut myself because I felt so hopeless. I wanted to die rather than have to go through this. I felt terrible and the fact that I wasn't working on any of the mental stuff in the hospital made everything so much harder. All I did was eat, drink, sit in bed, sleep, and talk to no one. It was torture. Then they told me there was an opening at CEDC and I took it right away. i couldn't bear to stay in that hospital any longer, plus I had never been there so it would be a good place to try. I was so scared to go. What would the girls think of me? Would I be the biggest one? Will I have to eat everything? Will i be able to exercise? But I liked it better than other places. After following my meal plan at the hospital I did okay at first when I was at CEDC, but then I started getting away with things. I started manipulating the system again. I just wasn't ready to let go and give it up. I still wanted ED and I would do anything to keep him. I loved my case manager there and my nutritionist. I was always alone and didn't really talk to the girls much but they were nice. As time went on I felt worse and worse and started eating all together. I started dropping weight and I ended up back at the hospital. They told me that I was just going to get fluids in my system because I was dehydrated but then they made me stay because I was having the same problems with heart that I had before all over again. I was scared. I was mad because I thought they lied to me. They said they didn't know how long I would have to stay, just until my heart started to get back to its normal rhythmical pattern. I was praying it wouldn't take long. I was scared to start eating again. But I made them start me off slow. I was only there for 3 days and then I was allowed to go back to CEDC because they still had my bed open, but only if I continued to eat. I went back scared as hell, and felt so unwelcome. I felt that all the girls hated me for the way I was acting, because I probably triggered them but I didn't care. I needed to worry about myself. I went back, started eating and then had ups and downs again. I wasn't really gaining weight, because of other issues. At that point it was December and I had been admitted in October. All I wanted to do was leave. I started refusing to go to groups and i wouldn't go on passes. My team saw that it wasn't working and they talked about me getting a new team and coming home to see how things went. I was so happy. I just wanted to get out of there, but I had to prove that I could eat consistently for a week before they would let me go. I made myself do it and it was so scary. My doctor didn't agree with me coming home, because I had basically gone in at the same point I was leaving at. She said that if i lost ANY weight then i would be sent back to the hospital only to start the whole cycle over again. I came home a few days before Christmas and I was thankful. I went back to see my doctor and had lost weight. My whole world started crumbling before me. I fucked up and now I couldn't do anything about it. I would have to go through this misery all over again. But that's when I confessed that I had been exercising and that was why I lost. She said that Dad had to watch me more and I was fine with that because I was sick of exercising anyway. But then I started water loading because I was so nervous about having to go back somewhere. I kept doing that for a few weeks and then kept passing my appointments. Then there came a point where I confessed that I had been water loading and I started out from scratch. It was a big step for me to do that and I was proud that I did. I hated doing that shit anyway. But I started losing weight again, even though I was following my meal plan, and I had to go back to Walden. I said I would only do the intensive outpatient program because that was all I needed, when I really did need more. I went through that program ans started water loading again. I had ups and downs and they threatened partial. So I tried to kick myself in the butt and follow my meal plan so I didn't lose weight. I got transferred to the program closer to home in Worcester which was a big help. I stayed there for a few weeks and then had to leave because I was going away for a week to FLA. I was so happy I could be done. This was a time to prove that I wouldn't need to go somewhere when I got back. My doctor thought differently. But long story short, ever since I came home from Florida I have been trying to stay on track and do what I should. I have had my slip ups and ups and downs and have lost and gained weight, but I have proven to my doctor and alot of people that I have a fight within me. My doctor trusts and believes in me so she is trying to give me a chance. I'm still at the point now where I don't want to get completely rid of my eating disorder, but I don't want to have to go through all of that hell that i talked about earlier all over again. I'm trying to just keep chugging along even though i want to completely stop. I'm trying to believe that it is possible to over come this, but it is hard for me to see. I guess you'll just have to ride with me along this crazy path to see where it leads me.
I'm sorry this was so long, but that's basically how my life was like, and it has lead me to the point where I am today.
