09/24/2014 10:26 am ET Updated Sep 24, 2014

IT HAPPENED TO ME: Undergoing Treatment For My Bulimia Put Me Deep In Debt

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“And how much do you weigh now, sweetie?”

She was the intake coordinator for an eating disorder treatment program, and still I feared what she would think of the number. I lay slumped against the wall opposite a row of vending machines in a tiny room on the third floor of my dorm, dizzy and so, so ill, and still seared with shame.

I spluttered my weight into the phone and gritted my teeth. There’s not much that compares to that kind of visceral disgust, at least not for me; I was ashamed to be literally bleeding inside and not even have thinness to show for it.

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