When I was barely a teenager still young enough to be nervous about first kisses, “Ana” crept up upon me and broke my withering body. I had gained about seven pounds during the period of time school was out when Hurricane Francis and Hurricane Jean hit my hometown. I was out of school for two weeks and was stuck in a boarded up house. There was nothing to do except eat and laze around. As the time to go back to school came, I had gained weight. I was distraught. I knew I needed to shed the pounds off immediately. Unconsciously, a storm was brewing in my mind that was about to become a full blown tempest in the coming months. Four months later I had lost six pounds. I had a goal set to lose ten, but I never made it. By the beginning of 2005 I was becoming desperate and neurotic, yet I was still denying that I had a problem. My family thought I was in a stage and didn’t worry about it, but that was their biggest mistake. A month later I was still bordering the weight I was the month before. One night I slept over my friend’s house and we were playing around and having fun. We were eating so many sweets and high caloric foods. That next morning when I woke up and went into the bathroom I found a scale and decided to weigh myself. That was my biggest mistake. I looked at the numbers and started to freak out. I knew if I didn’t start losing weight I would become chubby. In reality I was very thin, but my mind was distorted and told me differently. As the days went on, my eating habits became more complex and twisted. I started to throw away food at school and not eat lunch at all. As spring break hit, I lost another three pounds. That week I went to Orlando for vacation with my family and ate normally for the first time in a month or so. On the ride back home, something was twisting inside of me bringing me down and turning my head to a distorted mess. I pinched my non-existent fat and shuddered in disgust. Once I went back to school, it all went downhill from there. I picked up the complex eating habits and the much distorted food rituals. I threw away food, barely ate breakfast, didn’t eat lunch, and barely ate dinner. One month later my eighth grade trip to Washington D.C. came and my family was finally starting to worry about me. My mom was contemplating on not letting me go because she knew I wouldn’t eat whatsoever, and she was completely right. She knew I desperately wanted to go and she finally gave in. Those four days in total I digested about 800 calories. That caloric intake is not even enough for one day. I came back four pounds less than I was when I left for D.C. I looked emaciated and tired and my aunt was worried sick. When she was younger she went through the same sort of thing so she knew what the signs were. I only went back to school for two more days then I was brought to the local hospital. From the beginning of the year I had lost eleven pounds bringing me to 99 lbs. I am 5’7 and was then too so that was very bad. They put me on an IV because I was severely dehydrated. I had to drink three ensures a day which only put me at 900 extra calories a day. I was home for two weeks. In those two weeks I hid food, threw out food, pretended to eat food, drank 6 bottles of water every day to flush the food out, took laxatives to also flush my system out, and finally exercised in secret. By the time I was finally admitted to Miami Children’s Hospital for Anorexia Nervosa I was almost too far gone. I dropped to a heart stopping 96 pounds and came into the emergency room with a heart rate of 35 beats per minute. I was very close to being put into the ICU. They diagnosed me with Brachycadia. I don’t remember much the first night as I was in and out of consciousness. I was too weak to stand or talk. The next few days were of me resting and having IVs in me. The rest of my 3 week stay was going down to the Psychiatric Unit to get therapy and join in group discussions. It was terribly lonely and I was going through so many stages of depression I couldn’t take anymore of it. They finally released me at 103 lbs. The first three weeks home I maintained my weight, but “Ana” took hold of me again and I started to become very secretive with my food again. I exercised in secret as much as I could everyday in the bathroom, the floor behind my bed, and even at two in the morning. The most sit ups I got up to were 2500 a day. This is no lie. I don’t know how I did it, as I was very weak still. One morning I got up from my bed to get some water and I passed out. I woke up to my parents speeding me to the hospital. From there it was a blur until I was back to Miami again and was rested for a week. After I wasn’t dizzy anymore and became strong enough I went to stay on the Psychiatric Unit. I was there for four weeks and released to Renfrew Treatment Center. I stayed there for three months and am still continuing my recovery as of now. Anorexia is not something you want to deal with. This world has got to try harder with positive body image or we are going to have many cases of what I went through.