Living With Anorexia: Melissa Román
Restricting her diet from her teenage years to college finally led to collapse and recovery at a clinic.
I come from a very Catholic family in which everything has to be picture
perfect, even if it's an illusion, like in "Desperate Housewives."
I was always thin, while my sister was the overweight one -- my mother put
her on Weight Watchers when she was 12. Early on, I got the message from my
mother that if you're thin, you get loved.
When I was in the ninth grade, we moved back to Nicaragua from Honduras,
because democracy had been restored. All the girls in my new high school were
so into dieting. I started restricting what I would eat and throwing up at the
same time. My father caught me with laxatives once, but my family thought I
just wanted attention. They didn't notice I wasn't getting my period.
Then I went to college at Louisiana State University. I looked at it as
freedom, my ticket to salvation. I joined a sorority and there was much more
pressure: LSU had a Latin community, but Latin girls didn't join the
sororities, so I was the "different" one. Still, I made an incredibly
close group of friends. My parents blame my eating disorder on the sorority,
but they don't understand I would have had the same issues anywhere.
When they came for my graduation, they hadn't seen me in several months.
They were shocked at how much weight I'd lost. They took me back to Nicaragua,
where they took my passport away and wouldn't let me leave the country. But I
couldn't get any real therapy there. I saw about seven therapists; one told me
anorexia could be cured by pills, and another told me if I took vitamins I'd be
I had no clear path ahead, and was just living at home with my parents. I
was just going more and more downhill, and really depressed. The number on the
scale was never good enough, no matter how low it got. In September of 2000 I
finally told my dad, "If I don't get help, I'm going to die."
Finding Help for Anorexia
Within two days, my bags were packed and I came to Miami, where I eventually
went into the residential program at Renfrew's Coconut Creek location. I won't
write my lowest weight, because I don't want to trigger someone else, but it
was very dangerous. During my first few weeks in Miami, I went to the ER four
or five times because I kept getting dizzy and falling down, fainting and
banging my head on the TV, things like that. And I still had no period.
I switched between inpatient care and day treatment a few times. My total
time at Renfrew was probably three to four months before I got back up to a
healthy weight. I also learned to use my voice -- instead of using my body --
to express how I felt. It got me into practicing communications skills. Now
that I'm on my own, I still see my therapist twice a week, and my nutritionist
every other week. Every day, I email my nutritionist what I ate that day as
well as how I felt while I was eating.