The need for family support for Anorexia Nervosa and other eating disorders to have a favorable outcome
A patient's account describing the onset and progression of her anorexia nervosa: Maintaining hope is always fundamental to therapeutic success
Reflection on my identity, construction of my life story
My life began with my birth. I was a much-anticipated baby; they wanted to give my sister María, who is four years younger than me, a playmate, so my arrival was met with great excitement. I spent my first six years living in Almería, in a house by the beach, so I have very fond memories of all my summers there. I was lucky enough to live in the same building as my cousins (whose ages are very close to my sister's, so I was the youngest).
My mother suffers from a rare disease (multiple chemical sensitivity), and during those years it tormented her even more. They explored many alternatives to the medical treatments that offered no improvement, until they found what they considered the most appropriate solution: moving us to a small village in the province of Almería (thus remaining close to the rest of the family). They believed the pollution-free environment would benefit her. It marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I remember our arrival as something very special, since I was quite worried about my mother's health, and knowing that what she needed was, in part, to be away from the city, I asked for a small house for all of us for Christmas, and some time later, my wish was granted. My sister and I enrolled in school, and the village children quickly welcomed us with open arms—very honest people, by the way, from whom I learned many values. During this time, there were periods when my mother's condition worsened. Unable to find treatment in Spain, she had to be hospitalized in England for several weeks at a time. During those weeks, we lived with my nanny, who has always been part of the family (the leg that keeps the table from wobbly). My parents have always done their best to make my sister and me happy, and they certainly made this period easy for everyone (as they say, love conquers all). The town where we spent those years gave me the perfect childhood, as well as great friends and a freedom that few get to experience at that age. I was always struck by the fact that nobody locked their doors when they left and that I could even go off and play on my bikes alone without my parents.
After this period, from which I always gained the most—and that's saying something—my second big change began. My mother became strong and healthy, so we moved back to Almería (the perfect time because I was just starting high school and my sister was starting her final year of secondary school). We didn't embrace the move with fear, but with great enthusiasm. I made friends very quickly and adapted so well that my parents could hardly believe it. Although, on the other hand, adolescence was beginning, and with it, the changes that come with it. I imagine it was a difficult time for my parents; at that moment, I felt quite disoriented about myself and what I wanted to achieve with my life, so I became a bit rebellious (my mother even joked about calling me Agustina de Aragón—you can see her personality).
I found a great passion: to go and study in Seville, and that passion translated into happiness throughout the entire process (it's like a journey, don't just enjoy it when you arrive, enjoy it even when you have to pack your luggage, that's also part of the journey)
When we were still in our village, my sister went to live with a family in the United States for a year, an experience she had always recommended to me. Now, with me in my fourth year of secondary school, my parents were offering me that same opportunity, so without hesitation, I prepared to begin my first year of high school there. This decision has had many consequences in my life; now I have a different perspective on things, and perhaps if I had been as mature at that time, everything would have been different. But as they say, we learn from our mistakes. This is how what I consider the third stage of my life began, possibly one of the most distressing because of the way I experienced it.
In the summer before I left for the United States, I began to to flirt with eating disorders, since I had never truly felt satisfied with my body and had many unresolved internal conflicts (despite my parents always being attentive to this, including seeing psychologists since I was very young). When I arrived, the eating disorder manifested itself as bulimia, stronger than ever, fueled by the poor eating habits of my host family. I went through a period of hiding and depression, until my parents, still not fully aware of what was to come, found out and brought me back to Spain (I was only there for a month). I was lucky to return at the end of September, so I was able to resume my high school studies without any problems; now the difficulties were different. The eating disorder was showing more and more faces, and as expected, although I didn't believe it, I was taken for treatment and subsequently hospitalized for a month. This obviously affected my studies and every aspect of my life, which it had managed to completely destabilize in an instant. When I realized it, I was a real mess. anorexicI've always been a very consistent and disciplined child, so I achieved the goals I set for myself very quickly, having to set new ones for myself, each time in shorter intervals. I wanted to be the best. anorexic of the world, and soon the despair translated into self-harm and other issues, leading to constant hospitalizations (it was a year where I spent more time in the hospital than in high school). The cheerful, happy girl was replaced by sadness and loneliness. My parents, now desperate, believed I would find support within my family again, learn to value life, and overcome the illness. But it wasn't so. This has meant a long period of struggle and suffering that continued throughout my second year of high school, with small improvements that gradually helped me continue on the uncertain path toward recovery. My parents have always told me how proud they are of me for finally being able to pass all my subjects that year despite the circumstances. It's true that my second year of high school was much easier because my main focus was now on my grades so I could study psychology, and in the second half of the year, I improved by leaps and bounds.
I remember graduation as something very special, since no one expected me to be able to achieve it. I was also saying goodbye to my tutor, who had shown me so much affection. My sister, who had been studying in Canada, returned, and from that moment on, things started to fall into place again. Tears turned into laughter, and tears into smiles. Happiness returned to my life, its arrival quite sudden and without any clear reason. I've always tried to find an answer, so I could help others and discover the key to happiness, to always remember it, but things are really much simpler than we think. I don't have a definitive answer; I can't describe the exact moment of change or the trigger that brought it about, but I do believe that letting go and simply enjoying things brings happiness. There are many books "in search of happiness," but it's not a predetermined path. Everyone finds pleasure in different things; you just have to allow yourself to enjoy them. I found a great dream: to go and study in Seville, and that dream translated into happiness throughout the entire process (it's like a journey, don't just enjoy it when you arrive, enjoy it even when you have to pack your luggage, it's also part of the journey).
They accepted my dream and absolute freedom, and once again, my wish was granted.
Thus begins a new chapter in my life, a chapter in which I feel fulfilled, mature, and self-assured, though also with much to learn. I hope that experience and happiness will always be with me.
