Amy is wisp of a girl. At the age of almost 18 she is smart, sweet, and fun to be around when she’s feeling social. Most of the time she seems to look out at the world as though she isn’t sure it’s a place she wants to be visible in. There are instances though, more and more frequently now, that her potential and her inner strength shine fervently in her large brown eyes. She has so much going for her and I can’t help but feel a confident hope for her future. She has only had her eating disorder for a year and a half and, if she’s able to beat it now, it won’t have stolen too much of her life. It won’t have stolen her light yet.

Today, after research group, she handed me a note. It read:

“…I’m sorry for what you saw, or didn’t see. I know that what I did was wrong, and I know I didn’t try to be better about it. I’m sorry that I let you down, and I can understand if that makes you think less of me. I mean, what do I know? I am just a 17-year-old who is fighting against everyone who wants me in a better position, but can’t see it. Please let me know if any of my actions have affected you in any way. You have been a big support to everyone here, including myself. I’m sorry for my lapse and please let me know if I can do something to change.”

Just before the group she had had a lapse in judgement and I had witnessed it. We are both on the same schedule for our twice daily Ensure shakes and, having been cued in by Benji that something was amiss, I was keeping my ears and eyes open while I worked on my crossword puzzle. After a few minutes, with a timid glance around, Amy stood and executed a swift maneuver that resulted in the disposing of her Ensure down the drain of the drinking fountain. She was so hesitant, so already full of remorse and yet, so taken by the insistence of her eating disorder.

From what Benji said this all started yesterday. he had been in my shoes as witness to action and had had a talk with Amy about it after the fact. When he related the story to me as we walked outside it was the air of sadness at Amy’s decision that relayed through his voice. Neither of us wanted to see the bright girl, who was quickly growing on us like a younger sister, turn down that road. Thats the strength of compulsion with eating disorders though. It didn’t matter that Amy was disappointed in herself or that she regretted what she did after the very first time she did it. The fact remained that she hadn’t been caught by any of the staff that first time. She had gotten away with it once and therefore the urge to do it again held strength enough to overrule any part of her that rued her actions.

This is the sickness of it. Its the pit the eating disorder seems to drag us into – this abyss that sucks us up entirely while letting us fall without reaching the bottom.

HOPE. All I can say is hope. With enough hope that falling just might turn to floating and I have every hope for Amy. Now we just have to see what she does. The rest is up to her.