Mom, Please Help: a True Anorexia - Bulimia Story. Part 2

After major disappointment at school when she failed to be picked to perform in tge Christams extravaganza Amy was inconsolable she screamed and yelled and cried and cried. I tried to consol her by saying there is always next year, it was not your fault you were sick, but nothing could make her stop being upset.

All she kept saying was that she had tried so hard why was I not picked. Mom I wanted to be in the show why did I not get in, I am too fat, they didn't pick me because I am too fat.

Amy just sobbed and sobbed all night in her room there was nothing I could do, absolutely nothing. I remember saying to my husband John that she will cry herself out and in a couple of days she would be that lovable girl we knew: how wrong this statement turned out to be.

I have heard Anorexia described by another sufferer as being like getting on an escalator that you can not get off. It just keeps going and you don't even know how you got on in the first place, all you know is the floor has changed.

You think you are in control at first but then it takes control of you and there is nothing you can do about it. This is basically what happened to Amy, I believe she got on the escalator the night of the auditions looking for something she could control, but only found the devil.

Over the next 12 months Amy seemed to be doing well, at school her grades were up and she was near the top of her class. But she had completely given up her dancing, saying to us that she wanted to concentrate on her school work. Amy had always liked going to school even when she was little, in fact she couldn't wait to get back to school during the term breaks, looking forward to the new school year.

So when she told us she wanted to do better at school we simply believed her, after all her grades reflected all the effort she was putting in. We didn't realize that what was really happening was she was withdrawing further and further into herself.

She wasn't eating much and soon started to look thin and scrawny. I never noticed her weight loss as it was winter and she wore bulky clothing that covered her up. It was only well into spring when she started to wear thinner clothes that I really saw the extent of the problem.

I started to worry about this but when I would approach her she would tell me she was just on a diet and don't bother her. It was at this time the alarm bells started to go off in my head; she was starting to look really emancipated.

To me she looked like one of those photos you see of people in the concentration camps, all skin and bone, her hair was lank without luster or life. My God I started to think what is going on here.

It was time for us to confront Amy to see what in the world was happening. We decided to wait until Ben, her brother, was not home as we wanted to have a good talk to Amy and thought it would be a more relaxed atmosphere if he was not there: what transpired was anything but relaxed.

Amy just did not want to talk she exploded, swearing and cursing me telling us that it is her life and if she wanted to diet she would. I said to her that she had no fat to lose she was just skin and bone.

She pointed to her shoulders telling me am I blind, look at all the fat on her shoulder. I tried to point out that is the bone in your arm it is not fat. She yelled and screamed calling me an idiot and just wanted to leave her alone, slamming the door in my face.

I was in absolute shock. Tears were streaming down my face. What had just happened, I could not believe what I was hearing. John tried to open the door but it was locked he yelled for Amy to open the door and he wanted answers right now.

All we got back was a tirade of abuse, he banged on the door but Amy just got worse and worse yelling and screaming, we could hear things being thrown, things smashing and Amy telling us to go away and let her be.

I called my doctor to talk to him; I needed answers to what was going on. He suggested that I come and see him and bring Amy if it was possible, so I made an appointment for the next day. When Amy claimed down I asked her if she wanted to go with me. She refused; saying why would she want to go to see a doctor, there is nothing wrong with her.

I wanted to say something but the events of that morning stopped me; I did not want a repeat performance until I at least knew what it is I was dealing with.

I attended the appointment with Dr Thomson explaining what had happened. He asked me a number of questions about Amy and then told me he was sure that she had an Eating Disorder and it was probably Anorexia.

It was at this point of my life I decided that I have to do something major to save my daughter's life.