But I'm Not Skinny Enough To Have An Eating Disorder

...This is the first thing that crossed my mind when I was heading home from Nashville on the day I received my diagnosis. How will I explain this? Girls with eating disorders are stick thin and look sickly. Wrong. Women with bulimia are typically average to over weight, which means it is easy for the disorder to go undetected. Not only was I misinformed about eating disorders, my family and friends were too. I was nervous about telling them what I had found out.

I was emotionally drained. It was a Wednesday night and I remember staying home from church and feeling completely justified because I was in no state to face anyone. Tears were hiding out behind my eyes ready to appear at anytime, without notice. I slept. 

The next day my mom and I had a talk about the appointment. I told her I felt better. I still felt a little strange about the way the appointment had gone, but the doctor made it sound so easy.  Talking to that psychiatrist helped and I can do this. You know what, I'm not going to take ANY laxatives today. And I didn't. 

Stuart had avoided the situation all together and because of his work schedule we didn't get to actually have a sit down until a couple of days after the appointment. When we finally did, it was uncomfortable. He seemed disconnected and unmoved by my diagnoses. He said he was glad I went and was getting help, but he didn't ask any questions and I didn't give him any more information (I wasn't sure what to say either). Day two of no laxatives.

Friday came around and I don't know exactly what went on in my head, but I was triggered. Maybe it was the awkward conversation with Stuart. Maybe it was the fact that I had not had a bowel movement in 2 days (which to me, meant I had gained at least 10 lbs). I started taking them early in the morning. More every couple of hours. I still don't know how many I took that day, but by 11 PM I was a sick girl. Everyone was in bed. I tried to lay down to ease the worsening pain in my stomach. You've been in pain like this before. Just suffer through it and be quiet so no one knows. I tried, but the pain was so intense I couldn't breathe. I woke Stuart up, gasping. 

"Stuart... I'm sick....I need help." I managed to force out of my mouth, while heaving. I could not catch my breath. My mom ran in. "Hannah, what's the matter?!" "I..took too many..laxatives." She asked me how many, but I couldn't remember, and even if I could, I could not speak. I honestly thought that was going to be the end of my life. Mom asked if I could walk, but without waiting for an answer she ran to my dad and told him I needed an ambulance. He came in my room and asked if I could walk. I shook my head and he carried me down the stairs. I pulled it together for a minute so he wouldn't see me that weak. Mom grabbed a trash can, helped me in the car, and Stuart drove us to the ER. I immediately started vomiting. Mom called them to tell them we were coming. When we got there, I was determined to walk in. I'm not that bad. I could feel my feet and legs moving slowly as if they were shriveled up, and my face felt strange. When I walked in, they looked at me like I was deformed. My mom told me later my face was drawn up, and I looked really scary. They took me back immediately, going before the people that had been in the waiting room. I don't remember much else, except they gave me a shot for pain and IV fluids. I was severely dehydrated and my stomach was working overtime to digest all of those laxatives. I woke up on the table when it was time to go home that night and the nurse said "You look so much better. I didn't know what you really looked like when you came in."

I will never forget the feeling of being completely helpless. I knew when I got home that night that I was ready to do whatever it took to get better. I had watched my mom and my husband cry and worry over my sick body, all the while, my sweet little boy lay sleeping at home in his crib. I was going to beat this. I had to.