As for me – the height of my anorexia was when I was 17. I was fully aware there was a serious problem. I was totally aware of what I looked like and that people called be “skelator”. My mom would yell at me that I look like a concentration camp victim. I did not think of myself as beautiful nor fat. It just was not about that for me. But, as you so often hear in meetings I was powerless over my addiction. Eating was NOT an option. Terror, fear, and had many times where I could not be within 10 feet of food no matter what kind. Looking back I understand that it was also a refusal to grow up. I was graduating high school, and had spent all of … Read entire article »