I had a frenemy- a unique combination of a friend and an enemy. She used to live inside me for a long time. Sometimes she was hidden, and sometimes she completely took over me. I used to call her “a frenemy” since there were many moments when she was my best friend but sometimes she could be my worst enemy. Her name is Anorexia. I have never wanted to get this title “sick”, and Anorexia did not want anyone to know about her, so in small steps, I developed and improvised methods to hide her. I wore wide clothes, put very little food in bags, and always made sure that empty bags of food would be around me- so that they would not ask me questions. In hard and extreme moments, I also learned to vomit without anyone noticing. I’ll never forget that time when we both sat on my bed, and she didn’t want me to go out. She said that she was afraid, she wanted me to stay with her. I believed her, without knowing that she wanted me there only to hurt me. Anorexia didn’t have a specific place, she was everywhere, at school, with my friends and family, but most of all, she loved to come and visit me especially when I was alone. Anorexia revealed herself every night, in my room. Anorexia had an inner and mental place inside of me, she lived inside my body. This disease is like a rolling snowball, like walking on a slippery, dangerous slope. When you fall, even if it is the smallest fall, stopping yourself becomes the hardest thing of all. Anorexia is the worst disease because it is inside the body, in your soul. You fight with yourself every day, every single moment. And when you want to run away, to escape, you don’t have any place to go to. You cannot take a pill to cure yourself. This is a daily war of existence. Every morning I put my mask on. I got up every morning, covered the sadness and tears with makeup, the bones I covered with wide clothes, the pain and the difficulty, I kept to myself. Luckily for me, there were many people around me who supported, loved, and helped me to the break up with her, Anorexia. It was a difficult and intense time, she fought me at any moment, and she did not give up. Anorexia used to come to me on cold nights and convince me that we were still friends that nothing had happened. But after many tries, she gave up and decided to leave. Even though she left, she didn’t allow me to forget her. She left her traces in my heart and soul. Fragments of pain, lack of self-perfection, increased self-criticism, counting of calories and much more, but she left me with one important insight,
the ability to enjoy life, and in general, the opportunity to live.