The first thing you notice about The Anna Westin House in rural Minnesota, named for one of the saddest stories in eating disorder lore, is that you don’t notice it at all. Two light brick townhouses joined at the kitchen, it blends seamlessly in with the surrounding upper middle class neighborhood. From the green and white porch chairs to the single car in the driveway, nothing sets it apart. There is nothing to tell you that this is where girls who are actively courting death come to live. For many it is their last grab at life.
Passing the unobtrusive shrubbery, I step through the door to find myself standing in an open great room. This is how it must be for the girls who live here, I think. No transition. One moment you are in your own life and then you walk through a door and everything’s changed. This is a house of rules, you see.
Rule number one: You cannot come and go as you please. Nor can your friends and family. A soft-spoken older woman, the house matron, smiles and asks me to sign in. I do so, the only person on the fresh sheet. My friend Emily, whom I have come to see, stands awkwardly in front of me, hugging a thick sweatshirt around her despite the moderate 74 degrees the thermostat is set to.
Rule number two: There is a time for everything. And I have come at the end of Seminar Time, just before Visiting Time. As the guest speaker for the evening talks about being “recovered” – a word that causes almost unanimous eye rolling; one girl tells me that her highest hope is to be “recovering” for the rest of her life – I glance around the homey living room. The walls are painted in Model Home colors accented with tasteful furnishings and wall hangings. Flowing uninterrupted from the living room, the kitchen carries on the same post-modern Pottery Barn feeling. The most prominent decoration in the kitchen however is a wall-size antique looking chalkboard. White lines split it into a calendar of sorts. I squint and realize I’m looking at a menu complete with chore assignments. Tonight’s dinner was apparently seafood salad with lemon bars for dessert although it smells like spaghetti.
Nobody seems to think it strange that the dominant feature of the first room you see in a house for eating disordered girls is a wall-sized menu. Daily Special: Anxiety on a plate.
“I didn’t know how much food they were going to make me eat,” Emily says plaintively, her knees tucked up under her chin. We’re now sitting outside, on the porch, to let Emily warm up. As she readjusts, I notice how much thinner she is even though I just saw her 2 days ago. Her eyes narrow as she notices the gum in my mouth. “If you have gum, you have to give me a piece.”
I hem and haw. Rule number three: Caffeine and gum are specifically banned at the beginning of the program and thereafter meted out on an earned basis only. It makes sense as anorexics typically abuse both. (How does one abuse gum? When you use it to occupy your mouth so you don’t eat.) I look down at Emily’s cute shoes. “Don’t you think your first day is a little early to be breaking the rules? I mean, if you’re going to be here you should try and be committed…”
“Oh, I’m committed all right,” she says wryly and after a pause we both giggle.
We move on to discuss other things, mostly light-hearted gossipy banter, and my hour passes quickly. The flash in her eyes returns as I sigh and stand. Don’t go. She doesn’t say it but I can see it in her eyes. She is scared. And alone. And so so tiny. Her fragility overwhelms me. I am loathe to leave her like this.
“Here,” I whisper, holding out the pack of gum. “You can have one piece.” She takes two, pocketing one and chewing the other. I silently curse myself for not remembering to spit out my gum before coming. For not being strong enough to resist her anorexia-fueled manipulations.
We join the rest of the girls out in front of the house. They are watching a Midwestern thunder storm roll in with all its fury – a row of upturned faces searching for funnel clouds. I notice they are all wearing sweatshirts and pants to ward off the chill of a perfect summer night. I feel fat. A small swell of panic rises in my throat as I look down at my adult-sized jeans completing the row of childish denim. I am not immune. Rule number four: Do not talk about body size. Not yours. Not theirs. Not Angelina Jolie’s. I swallow my fear.
An attractive young man sans shirt jogs by. I smile and comment, “Well you guys certainly have nice scenery!” The girls glance briefly at him, confusion playing across their faces.
“What I wouldn’t give to run,” Emily sighs.
“No cardio until you earn it back,” a brunette says curtly and then adds, “You’d better hide that gum too.” Emily nods, the shirtless man remembered only in the context of lost exercise.
I don’t know how to end this. It seems too abrupt to just toss a casual wave over my shoulder as I head down the driveway, as I would at another friend’s house. I know it will get easier after future visits but for now it is awkward. Stepping lightly, I hug Emily – so careful, she is so breakable – but she doesn’t hug me back.
“What?” I say urgently. “Are you going to be okay?” What a stupid question.
She shrugs and chews at her nails. “Just something you said…”
“What??” I demand. “What did I say?”
“It’s nothing,” she turns away, trying to draw me back in.
I won’t be played this time. “You’ll be fine. Really. I’m proud of you for doing this. I know you can do this.”
My resolution affects her. She stands straighter. “Can I?”
“Yes. You are a survivor.” I don’t add that it’s her last chance. Her parents have said if she fails this round of therapy – her third in so many years – then she can’t come home again. Meaningless threat? Tough love? Parents simply unable to watch their daughter kill herself by inches as they watch? I don’t know.
Emily’s eyes cloud over and she chews her lip as if she too is considering her alternatives. Or lack thereof.
I walk away to my car and drive into the night, keenly aware of my freedom. Keenly aware of how very little separates us.
Have you ever had a friend or loved one with an eating disorder? How did you support them? How did it change your relationship?
This post sound familiar? It originally ran in August 2008. Copyrighted by Charlotte Hilton Andersen and The Great Fitness Experiment. Not to be used or republished without permission.
I have not ever had one that was anorexic or bulimic. Just ones like me – overweight.
I am glad that there is a place for people like Emily to go. I wish that there were more like it for all types of eating disorders.
Actually, this house is run by The Emily Program and they do offer services for all types of eating disorders, including binge eating and compulsive overeating. You certainly don't need to be an anorexic to need or deserve excellent care! I was surprised that the first support group meeting I went to there (for myself, not my friend) had a wide variety of body types. Sadly eating disorders touch every strata of society.
I've not had someone close to me with anorexia or bulimia.
I notice that this is a couple of years old. How's your friend now ? Is she recovering ?
My mom has battled with a mix of anorexia and bulimia since she was a teen. Several years ago when she was in a particularly dangerous place with it I had to sign the papers to put her in an eating disorder clinic against her will because my father couldn't bring himself to do it. She still battles and goes through some stages where she is doing better and periods where it is down right scary.
It really has affected our relationship and I guess that is expected. It has affected my own relationship with food and my own body image. I went the opposite direction and developed binge eating disorder. Wasn't until I went on my own journey to get healthy did I see that part of that was related to my desire to save her…basically I was trying to eat for her. Weird but when you growing up it was hard not to be affected because you live everyday watching your mom slowly killing herself and you don't really understand why. I know now that the only person I can save is myself. I love my mom and wish she would get healthy but I know that she has to want to do that.
Charlotte, this was beautifully written. I really feel like you captured what it’s like on both ends of the driveway. How is your friend now? I had a friend in high school who was anorexic, but after she got treatment she recovered. That said, I haven’t seen her in a decade, so I’m not sure what happened after graduation.
Good question Amber – Actually, no, not really. She was in treatment for a year but relapsed immediately on getting out. It was heartbreaking to watch and she and I have lost touch.
Oh wow. I am so very sorry for the trauma with your mother. I want to thank you for sharing this with me even though I'm sure it is painful for you to talk about – this makes me even more motivated to get my issues resolved ASAP. Before my own daughter is old enough to see it. ((hugs)) I hope your mother is doing better now. I'm glad that you are taking care of yourself!
When I was in High School, one of my sisters became anorexic (in her 20s). It really tore at our family, lots of blame, therapy, stress – not fun. She has never fully recovered and when I go back to visit my folks, family meals are not fun. She hardly eats, makes excuses, smokes like a chimney. I don't think she ever got the help that she needed.
How is your friend?
This is beautifully written.
I have a cousin that battles with anorexia. She started having the problem in middle school and is now a senior in high school. She is quite a few years younger than me and we have never been close so I am be totally wrong about the following. I truly believe that a large part of her problem is that her parents have controlled her every move her whole life (including what she can and cannot eat and drink) and not eating is the one thing that she could control. She seems to be better and I am not sure if this will continue when she finally goes to college on her own. I truly hope that when she has more personal freedom she can put it further behind her.
My sister was severely anorexic. At one point, she weighed 67 pounds (she is around 5'3").
I don't want to get into too many details, as it is her story, not mine, to tell.
She did recover, without therapy or hospitalization. I consider it something of a miracle.
I love her and don't know what life (or I) would be like had she been lost.
It was painful, horrible and frustrating to see her struggle (this was close to 20 yrs. ago, but still painful to recall).
She is now a child psychiatrist, and I'm sure she's going to help a lot of youngins going through struggles similar to what she went through.
So that's an awesome ending. I'm so grateful.
I remember reading this before and it is still a gripping read the second time around. So sad for those girls, but glad there is a place for them to go and get help.
When I was 13, my mom's parents staged an intervention and my mom went into an eating disorder facility. We attended family group meetings where I learned way too much about my family's sometimes dark history. In fact, I consider that time as when my childhood ended.
As part of the treatment, my mom, dad and me were all put on no sugar/no white flour/diabetic exchange diets by the hospital's dietician. To say that my relationship with food is not normal is pretty right on. My husband has commented on my tendency to extremes: either I'm restricting something, or I'm a little out of control with eating. It's 20 years later, and I'm finally reaching a more peaceful state with food and my body, though I still want to lose weight.
I don't think either one of my parents ever truly "recovered". There are food issues there, but those are manifestations of so much other stuff that was going on inside of them. I don't have any children yet, but my goal is to raise healthy and functioning children without saddling them with the baggage that I gained from my parents. I know I won't be perfect, but I am hopeful.
I had a family friend who developed anorexia. I hadn't seen her in a few years, but went to visit after hearing that she was hospitalized. We were both 15.
She unbelievably thin (I think she about 60 pounds at the time), not coherent at all. I wondered how her parents and teachers had let her get to that point without noticing that something was terribly wrong. She just lay on the bed, with her mouth opening and closing, with no response to anything we said, until my mom commented on the liquid food my friend was being force-fed, and how I should try some.
I have no idea what was going through my mind. I have no defense for my actions, other than I had been battling my own weight, but I said, "no, it will make me fat."
My friend immediately started trying to pull the tubes out of her arms and mouth. She'd heard what I said, and even lying in the hospital, on the verge of a coma, that was what she was worried about.
When I think back on it I'm so filled with shame and remorse at how selfish I had been. But my friend recovered, despite my insensitivity. And now I'm more careful about discussing body issues.
Linteater – You post touched my heart. I have said plenty of stupid things in my time and I can't imagine the burden of carrying around one offhand remark for all these years! You were 15- selfish and insensitive is in the job description. (Contrast that to my step-mom who, when a15-year-old friend of mine confessed to purging, responded, "Maybe you could help me learn how to do it!" She was 43 at the time… I guess some people don't grow past stupid and insensitive.
Hugs to you.
So, I'm curious. What happened to Emily? I've never had a friend with an eating disorder that led them to be anorexic. All the people I know with food/body issues are fat or holding on to what they see as an acceptable body size for dear life. Please email me about Emily. I'm hoping it's a happy ending.
I had a friend in junior high who was hospitalized for anorexia. I remember finding it so strange that someone could restrict their eating like that. If I'm honest, my 13 year old mind was even slightly jealous. Of what I dunno? The attention? Her little body? Her "determination". It's all so sad.
Do you think, after seeing the facility, that it is an okay place for girls to go that need help?
Absolutely, Laura! It's one of the best rated places in the US for treatment. I think it's just a hard process no matter where you go:)