![]() ![]() Specified.1 My weight has ranged over the past thirteen years fromġ35 pounds to 52, inching up and then plummeting backĭown I have gotten “well,” then “sick,” then “well,” then “sicker,”Īnd so on up to now I am considered “moderately improved,” I am an interesting creature, an Eating Disorder Not Otherwise I couldn't decide between the two and veered back and forthįrom one to the other until I was twenty, and now, at twenty-three, ![]() The age of nine, anorexic at the age of fifteen. Voice, Jane began to sit straighter in her chair, began to say, softlyĪt first, then louder, those words so many millions of people cannot In the year that followed, as both she and I gained strength, weight, Woman who had spent fourteen years in the hell of eating disorders, Her weak and erratic pulse, as this man stood here, peering downįrom on high, telling me that he was the doctor, that I, a mere young All I could see was Jane's heart monitor, ticking out The tests.” The doctor, impatient, said, “What do you mean by eating I said, “Listen, she's got an eating disorder. Asking an anoretic how she feels is an exercise inįutility. I said yes, but-He waved me away and asked Jane how she felt. Her here and there, and said, “Excuse me, miss, but I'm the doctor.” To please give her an EKG, take her blood pressure sitting and In the emergency room, the doctor took her pulse again and ignored me-first in bemusement, then in irritation-as I asked him Linger so long undetected, eroding the body in silence, and then they The panic, the what-have-I-done-wait-I-was-kidding. How this feels: the tightening of the chest , Jane has her eyes closedĪnd is breathing hard, she's twenty-one, I can't let her die, I know Risk of heart attack high, especially just out of the hospital whenĪnorexic behavior is likely to kick back in. The first months of “health” are the most dangerous, the body reacting violently to the shock of being fed after years of starvation, the Memory and statistics as we careened toward the emergency room: With the other and hustled her to my car, head spinning with I took her pulse, then grabbed my keys with one hand and her She nodded and said, “It's skipping and stopping.” I sat up and said, “What do you mean? Like, your physical heart?” ![]() Kicked back in my chair, extolling the virtues of health and stayingĪlive, when she glanced up at me and whispered: “My heart feels This great sin of consumption, this confession of weakness, this admission of having a body, with all its impertinent demands. Over her face, as though to keep from being seen as she committed Jane, just out of the hospital, pale and shy-eyed, let her hair fall Were glancing around surreptitiously, taking tentative breaths ofĪir. After years in the underworld, we'd risen to the surface and It was a landmark event: We were having lunch. ![]() The awakened and knowing say: body I am entirely,Īnd nothing else and soul is only a word for something Wasted is an incredibly detailed and complex story, with the author pulling few punches and including all the details of her eating disorders that are usually left out of the typical romanticised description.Ĩ “Dying Is an Art, Like Everything Else” The ending doesn't give much closure, but the afterword ties up loose ends and makes the whole story seem much more complete - and more inspiring, because of the way the author's life has progressed after she originally finished writing the book. However, if you're (as I said before) sure of your ability to stay in recovery, and looking for a reminder of what anorexia and bulimia can do to your body and your life, this book is perfect. The book starts off fairly triggering and gets more intense as the author's illness worsens - I found that even though I knew it was triggering me, I couldn't stop reading it and had to see how it ended. I would only advise reading this book if you've never struggled with an eating disorder, or if you are in recovery and are very sure of your ability not to relapse. ![]()
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