One teen's anorexia: It was about control
July 2, 2004
BY MICHAEL PRECKER
HIGHLAND VILLAGE, Texas - (KRT) - At 5-7 and 92 pounds, Ashley Smith was sure she was in control.
She was sure she was cleverly hiding her diet
pills and laxatives from her parents. Sure she was
fooling her counselor and her friends. Sure that every
rib she could trace with her fingers represented success.
"You know you're doing something self-destructive, but something makes you," she says. "It takes total control of your emotions, and the distortions take over."
These stories can go on for years and end in tragedy, particularly among teenage girls. But Smith, 18, has emerged from a two-year battle with anorexia nervosa and bulimia that could have killed her.
She recently graduated from high school, her weight is normal and she's working two jobs - one of them at a restaurant - before starting college next month.
"It's something I'll always have to deal with," she says. "But I don't think I would ever do anything that would jeopardize myself again."
Reaching that realization was a long and painful process. The road back started in February 2003, when a handful of diet pills laced with the stimulant ephedra sent her heart racing - and finally scared her into doing something.
She had already been dangerously thin for a year, locked into an eating disorder that became a compulsion.
Unlike some young women obsessed with losing weight because of society's focus on being thin, Smith's issue was control.
"I felt like I didn't have any control over my life, so I started to take control over my eating," she says. "It spiraled way out of control."
Her friends tried to help, her parents put her in counseling - and she conned them all.
"In the end, nobody can help you but yourself," she says. "You have to hit rock bottom before you realize what you're doing. I'm just lucky I didn't die."
The heart palpitations finally spurred Ashley to ask for help.
"We thought we were doing everything we could," says her mother, Cheryl Smith. "It's so frightening to hear your child say, `I know this can kill me but I can't stop,' and as a parent you can't fix it."
The Smiths took Ashley to Children's Medical Center of Dallas, where the pediatric psychology unit includes a special program to treat young people with eating disorders.
She was locked in from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., in control of nothing.
The staff monitored every bite of food, every trip to the bathroom, every conversation. The day was packed with group therapy, individual therapy, family therapy and schoolwork.
"You can't even shake your leg without them telling you to stop," Ashley Smith says. "They think you're trying to burn up calories."
Even though she knew it was necessary, she was furious at the confinement. When her parents took her home each night, she yelled that she hated them.
But gradually she built her daily calorie intake and regained her health. Antidepressants and other medications helped clarify her thinking.
After about a month, Ashley was transferred to a less-intrusive day treatment program at Children's. Over the next several months, she gradually resumed her regular life. It hasn't always been easy or smooth, and there are no guarantees. Smith says one girl she met in the eating disorders program recently had a stroke.
But for Ashley Smith, control has a new and different meaning: coping with stress, keeping busy and staying healthy, not forfeiting the life she has regained.
"Sometimes you have to give yourself a pep talk," she says. "I tell myself, `Look at how much you overcame.'
"I beat this. It's a great feeling."
Source:www.fortwayne.com
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