By Natasha

All I could think about was how much pain was in my heart. It had been a long day at school - and what with only getting 89 percent on a French test, and the boys calling me fat, I was overwhelmed. Somewhere between the front door and my bedroom I found a knife.

Bandaid solution

As I stood in front of the mirror and pushed the blade into my forehead, a feeling of relief overtook me.

The intense hurt that had been in my heart was now trickling down my cheek in the form of blood. Sorrow is not tangible, but an open wound could be dealt with by applying a bandaid.

Despite being adopted at one month, it seemed like I lived a stereotypically perfect life. Every summer we went away to a cabin on the ocean, and during the year I attended church and was in dance classes, swimming lessons and any other extracurricular activities that I wanted. Although there was no obvious reason why, inwardly I believed no one wanted me. I thought my biological mother hated me so much that she gave me away.

In grade 7, the lies that had been rooted in the back of my mind surfaced - as other children began making fun of me for being the smart kid. I secretly started eating to numb the pain, and discovered a form of coping through self-harm. Not wanting to worry my family, I became well practiced at making manipulative excuses for the newfound scratches that kept appearing on my body.

High school brought the promise of a fresh start; but in actuality, my problems followed me. I entered grade 8 as a self-conscious, scared, perfectionist, people-pleasing over-achiever. My life was miserable. I decided that losing weight was the only way to be happy. In grade 9 a peer made a comment to me - and I promised myself that I would lose weight, no matter what it took.

I prayed to God to give me an eating disorder. I just wanted to be liked, and thought the only answer to my problems was to be skinny.

That summer, I was dancing more than 40 hours a week in a semi-professional opera, and found it easy to restrict food. Some days only eating an apple, I lost weight very quickly. I lost 25 pounds in two months; the people around me thought I was outgrowing my baby fat. After that summer, I continued with disordered eating - and swung between binging and restricting. My weight often fluctuated, but didn't change too drastically.

Right before grade 12, one of my youth leaders died from a heart attack. I used her death as an excuse to begin purging. It began periodically, but by the time grade 12 started, I was purging everything I ate. I made a deal with myself that I was not allowed to eat - but if I did, I would have to purge. I also started punishing myself every time that I got a bad mark or had a disagreement with a friend. Cutting and purging took up all of my spare time.

I lost weight very quickly, and was sent to the school counsellor. With counselling three times a week, my parents were informed of my issues. I did not want them to worry, so I created a lie - and pretended to grow out of my issues.

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Disordered lifestyle

Living on campus in university brought the ability to fully embrace a disordered lifestyle. Although I went to a Christian university, I never truly understood what it meant to be a child of God. I fully turned against myself and did anything self-destructive that I could.

I would skip class to binge and purge, over-exercise, or self-harm. My evenings consisted of talking to my friends on pro-eating disorder websites where we encouraged each other to continue to lose weight.

The number on the weight scale determined the outcome of my day. If it was lower, I was more lenient on myself; but if it stayed the same or went up, I would find ways to punish myself - to the extreme of breaking my arm, or chiseling the word 'fat' into my stomach. I often prayed someone would kill me, because I was too afraid to attempt suicide.

The summer after first year, I gave up. I was seeing a nutritionist, therapist, doctor, family therapist and psychiatrist regularly, but nothing seemed to change. The anti-depressants that I had been put on only made me believe the lie that I was a bad Christian.

I ingested 120 extra-strength Tylenol. I found out later that the first night in the hospital my blood pressure dropped to something ridiculous like 30/20; the doctors could not assure my parents I would make it.

Choosing to get better

I saw how much I had hurt everyone in my life; so I chose to start getting better - even if it was just to keep them off my back. I started eating again and allowed myself to continue to gain weight. I stopped restricting and purged irregularly. I looked as though I was getting better.

For me, recovery became a game of how well I could fake being perfect for the day. Those who knew me were separated into two categories: those who knew the truth and had to deal with my prideful, attention seeking, self-destructive ways; and those who thought that I had my life all together.

Things secretly escalated. I was purging up to 23 times a day - sometimes just drinking water so I would have something to throw up. My self-harm changed from visible scratches on my wrists to deep burns and lacerations on my upper arms and stomach.

I regularly abused and over-used laxatives; I would wake up completely dehydrated, after passing out on the bathroom floor. I was a textbook case of a full-blown, depressed bulimic.

After a final, unsuccessful attempt to end my life, I called Mercy Ministries. I had lived a life believing that I had been created to be rejected, and could not comprehend why anyone would want to love me.

Over time, I learned in my heart what it means to have an identity in Christ. Instead of running to staff, I turned to him for my support. I also learned that he created me and chose me to be here, on Earth, for such a time as this. He formed me in my mother's womb, and knew the paths that I would choose - and still promised to love me!

God used Mercy Ministries to save my life. I am so grateful. I stand here today completely transformed. Statistically speaking, I was a write-off. I did not expect to still be alive - let alone free and excited for the future! Trials and temptations may come; but I have the Greater One in me, and have been given the tools to make healthy, abundant life choices. I choose to stand. I choose to live this life to the fullest - and to run into the destiny God created me to experience.

Mercy Ministries, based in Surrey plans to open a new residential facility this spring. For info: www.mercyministries.ca.

January 29/2009