an enormous amount that I knew I would have to find a way to burn off. Mum took me to the hospital anyway. The nurses weren't that interested in seeing me and told mum this was gonna be a waste of time. As I was sitting in the nurses' office a doctor walked past the room and saw me. He instantly walked in and made me weigh myself. The scales weighed slightly heavy which for the first time I was kinda glad. I remember him telling me I was at a dangerous level and made me take blood tests (I hate needles, so yes I cried).  They then set up an appt for me back in Waikato hospital to see dietitians and councillors. I was released from the hospital later that day and agreed to start eating again. I knew while in Taupo I would be watched closely what I ate so I calculated what to eat to just maintain for the next few days so everyone would be happy I'm eating and "trying" but not gain any weight until I got home then I can get back on track. This attempt lasted one day and then I couldn't do it. It scared me so much and I refused to eat. I cried and threw a tantrum because mum wouldn't let me train unless I ate breakfast but I couldn't do it. I started pacing up and down the stairs to try to burn off as much as I could.  She took me straight to the Waikato appt a few days early and they weighed me, took my vitals and ran various tests. I was sitting in a hospital bed and still refusing to eat. The nurse came in and said I needed to stay the night. I didn't know why but I didn't have a choice. I went to stand up to walk to where I was going to be sleeping and the nurse told me I wasn't allowed to walk. They gave me the option of being wheeled up to where I was staying in either the bed I was in or a wheelchair. I was confused about why I couldn't just walk and thought it was a bit over the top because my legs worked perfectly fine. I was wheeled up to my room in ICU, where I was hooked up to multiple different monitors and had a needle shoved in my arm so they could get more blood when they needed. I had nurses standing over me all night. My room was right outside the desk and I heard the nurse on the phone say " the girl with anorexia is in (my room number ) room". I had never in my wildest dreams for a second thought I had anorexia until it was said, even then I thought they were being overdramatic. The next morning I had doctors come in to speak to me. They told me my body was shutting down and they were scared that if I even walked to much Id drop dead and I would have died if I had done my swim training mum wouldn't let me do. Honestly to this day I still think they were being slightly dramatic but there was nothing I could do. I feel horrible now about the way I acted towards the doctors and nurses... I was a total bitch. I would stare at them blankly and was very blunt. To quickly sum up my experience of 2 weeks in ICU...My heart rate usually sat around 30bmp and when I slept it could sometimes drop so low the nurse would go to wake me up to get it back up. I had so many blood tests every day ( made easier by numbing cream). I wasn't allowed to walk more than a few steps to the toilet and wasn't allowed to shower until almost a week in. I was allowed out in a wheelchair a few times which mum would push around.  I had to eat every meal I was given and a nurse would sit there and watch me whilst I was eating and for 30-40mins after. If I refused to eat a meal I got told I would be tube-fed, but the screams of the little boy next door getting tube fed scared me too much to ever do that. I cried a lot and couldn't wait until the day I got out. My pulse had to sit above 50bmp consistently for me to be released but I have a naturally low pulse so after 2 weeks they finally realised me when it began sitting around 45bpm. I never ever saw myself as unhealthy skinny until one day in the hospital when I looked in the mirror and remember so clearly seeing the outline of all my ribs.  After I was released I had planned to go straight back to losing weight but had to be weighed weekly at my compulsory therapy sessions. In total, I had to gain 10kg to be at a semi-normal weight. During my time in Hospital, I had gained 2kg. I wasn't allowed to do any physical activity and had to pull out of swimming until I gained the weight back. Which in all honesty was the only thing I cared about other than staying skinny.  The first week out of hospital I lost 1kg despite eating everything on the plan and not exercising. Albeit I was using so much energy through the massive meltdowns I would throw before and after every meal. During my recovery there was a lot of tears and screaming, I had no control over my actions. I remember one day, in particular, that week I had worked myself up so much and thrown so many tantrums and punched/chucked around a tissue box to the point it bruised my knuckles by the afternoon I remember lying on the couch unable to move because I was so physically and emotionally drained. I wasn't myself during this time and in my head, all I wanted was to be skinny and swim or to not be here anymore. It was a hard time cause I couldn't swim and I couldn't stay skinny so there was a lot of times I contemplated just giving up. I didn't want to be like this but I couldn't control it. I saw the pain I was already putting my family through and I couldn't make that even worst despite the pain I was in.  I knew I had two options I could either give up and slowly die or fight so I could swim again. I decided to fight cause when I want something I will set my mind to it and not give up despite how challenging it is. I couldn't look at my reflection anymore as I hated the changes I was going through.  There was a lot of ups and downs during this process and there is no way I can go through them all. I was being weighed every week and slowly gaining each week. I used to drink so much water before my weigh-ins so I would weigh in heavier, which now looking back on it must have been very obvious as I always needed to pee straight after I got weighed.  Anyway, on April 4th I hit the goal and was given the okay to swim and id never been happier. On and off over the next few years, my eating was still fairly disordered and there was a lot of meltdowns and times I thought about returning to how I used to be.  If it wasn't for swimming and the determination, love and support that my family and friends gave me to push through I don't think I would have ever recovered. I still have days where I feel like shit and feel down about myself but that's completely normal to feel that way sometimes as it is impossible to be happy all the time. But for now, I am extremely comfortable in my skin and my weight going up or down doesn't make me bat an eyelid. I'm happy with how far I've come and I'm still learning to love myself every day. My personality is back and I realised the happiness I thought I felt from losing weight wasn't real happiness (if that makes sense). I've gained over another 10kg on top of what I had to gain and have never felt better. I still deal with anxiety and depression currently and over the past 5 years which can be extremely challenging sometimes but I don't want to stop fighting as I know life can be fun, exciting and unexpected.  If it wasn't for the bad times we would never grow and be the people who we are today or the people we will become. The main reason for me sharing this story is to let people know they aren't alone. I have left lots of things out of this story as I forget some things and don't want to make it too long but  I tried to cover a decent amount. Anorexia and well any kind of mental illness is a horrible thing to go through and I wish for no one to ever experience it, but it's not something you can control.  So it's important to look out for each other.I love you all and more posts will be coming soon, just wanted to start off by sharing my story, if you have any questions please don't be afraid to ask.

 

xoxo

Brooklyn