That summer (2008), I really began to eat healthy - I would eat low-calorie oatmeal, salads for lunch, etc. Then, the fatal blow, I suppose you could say, was the book "Skinny Bitch". An acquaintance had read it and said she had thus become a vegan, and was losing weight. Score! I thought. I'm going to read that book, and lose more weight! So... I did. I became a strict vegan. No meat, fish, eggs, milk, cheese, even butter, would pass through my lips. I also began jogging (very slowly, and for short distances, haha.) All this accelerated my weight loss, so that, when I returned to France for the school year, and finally bought my own scale, I found that I weighed 47kg. At 5'7, I was anorexic, though I did not yet realize it.
I just told myself that my stomach was the size of my fist, and I could not eat more than that. At lunch I would have part of a plate of veggies, and some lettuce or half a grapefruit. My weight spiraled lower and lower, until, when I visited the doctor in November, she declared I was underweight and anorexic.
My parents had been annoyed at my choice to become vegan (more cooking for my dad) but didn't really comment on my weight loss. I suppose, up till that point, I felt we were in two different worlds, they completely oblivious to my emotions, my depression, my social life, my disgust for my body, and my lack of self-worth. Suddenly, they seemed to care that I might have to go to the hospital. But they were still basically clueless - I remember, during one of my first meetings with the doctor, she was saying that I should see a therapist. My dad turned toward me and said "Can't you just start eating normally?"
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