Living with Pseudodysphagia
December 6th, 2016
My name is Samantha Stevenson, and I want to share my story with you all, and give insight on what it is like living with my disorder, Pseudodysphagia
Pseudodysphagia is the irrational fear of choking and/or swallowing.
AN: This may be a pretty long post, but I want to give you the full affect and full background before my next post. By the way, I'm not a "grade A" writer, so I may make mistakes! :)
~ Some parts may be a little disturbing to some. If you do not want to read my story, just scroll down and read the print in bold. That will tell you why i'm starting this, straight forward.
Thanks!
2003
I was 3 years old the day it started. I was sitting in the living room of my tiny childhood home in New York with my brother and sister watching Looney Tunes while we ate breakfast. I was eating Cocoa Puffs cereal for breakfast, when something on the screen made me laugh. I inhaled one of the pieces and panicked. I ran into the kitchen and tugged on my mother and fathers sleeve to get their attention. When they finally realized my frantic finger pointing indications to my throat, my father gave me the Heimlich maneuver. It felt like it took forever, and having a small breathing capacity definitely made it scarier.The tunnel vision I was getting didn't help calm me down. Finally, I coughed it out. I was freaking out and hysterical crying. My dad kept asking if I was okay, and eventually I nodded.
I certainly didn't feel okay. Even as the day went on, I felt odd. When lunchtime came around, my dad gave me a bowl of my favorite soup. Every time I would take a mouthful, I would inhale it. I threw a tantrum and begged them not to make me eat. The next day, I still was incapable of eating food. My parents had thought I would just be scared for that day but now, my parents were sure there was a problem. Day after day I wouldn't eat. If I had to take medication, it had to be liquid. I could drink though. I would drink water, milk, and other things. Eventually we found PediaSure (I think that's the name), and I would drink that to substitute for meals. Eventually I started to eat again but not as much as my body needed.
2004 - 2005
In 2004, I was a little better. I would still have off days, but it had gotten better. I was eating things like SpaghettiO's, my favorite soup, etc. Any noodle food, I was eating at that point.2006 - 2010
Any years from 2006 to 2010 were hell for me (if i'm putting it bluntly). I was hitting the age where bullying was seen more often. I was hitting the age where every little thing you did was being watched or judged.
I dreaded lunchtime. I cringe just from the thought. I used to sit with a group of friends at lunch time, but that quickly changed once they saw what a "freak" I was. Everyday at lunch I would eat Yoplait yogurt and drink PediaSure. Eventually something about that freaked me out too (maybe the texture, I honestly don't know). My mom had to come in every day and sit next to me helping me eat. Kids would make comments right in front of her, to me, and my mom would tell them to knock it off.
They never would, and every time my mom looked at me, I knew she saw the hurt in my eyes. Eventually, I decided to start going to the school guidance counselor (on my own). I had this idea in my head that she would help me. Then I could go home and eat something right in front of my mom and she'd be so happy. So everyday at lunchtime, I would go to Mrs. W's office and eat with her. She'd ask questions like: "How are you feeling? What have you eaten today?" Basic questions really.
Mrs. W had made a deal, that if I could get better by the end of the year, she would buy me whatever I wanted from McDonald's. The end of the year was approaching, and yes. I wanted McDonald's, but more than anything in the world, I wanted so desperately to be better.
That day I went home and made myself food. I tried to take mouthfuls over and over but I just... couldn't. My mother was crying on the couch after I ran into the bathroom with the bowl. She called my name several times, but gave up after I refused to come out.
The most detailed memory I have of my eating disorder, is this.
I placed the bowl on the counter of my sink and stared into the mirror. It's scary when you think about suicide regardless, but the fact I was so young and thinking about it almost every day made it more nerve wrecking. I hated myself. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that. I looked in the mirror into my eyes with tears streaming down my face (This may sound silly, but having my disorder, I really thought I just might die). I looked in the mirror and said "please Sam, please. You can do this." I took a mouthful of my food, and stared into the mirror again.
I swallowed it whole, clenching my fists, with my eyes shut tight.
I ran into the living room and yelled "Mom! I did it! I'm okay!" She looked at me exhausted and confused (most likely because she thought I was gonna dump my food). I put the bowl in her hands as she stood up. I reached my spoon into the bowl and took another mouthful; swallowing it whole.
My mother dropped the bowl and screamed of happiness. She hugged me tightly, and I explained how I had been going to the Counselor at school. She was so proud of me.
I was so proud of me.
I dreaded lunchtime. I cringe just from the thought. I used to sit with a group of friends at lunch time, but that quickly changed once they saw what a "freak" I was. Everyday at lunch I would eat Yoplait yogurt and drink PediaSure. Eventually something about that freaked me out too (maybe the texture, I honestly don't know). My mom had to come in every day and sit next to me helping me eat. Kids would make comments right in front of her, to me, and my mom would tell them to knock it off.
They never would, and every time my mom looked at me, I knew she saw the hurt in my eyes. Eventually, I decided to start going to the school guidance counselor (on my own). I had this idea in my head that she would help me. Then I could go home and eat something right in front of my mom and she'd be so happy. So everyday at lunchtime, I would go to Mrs. W's office and eat with her. She'd ask questions like: "How are you feeling? What have you eaten today?" Basic questions really.
Mrs. W had made a deal, that if I could get better by the end of the year, she would buy me whatever I wanted from McDonald's. The end of the year was approaching, and yes. I wanted McDonald's, but more than anything in the world, I wanted so desperately to be better.
That day I went home and made myself food. I tried to take mouthfuls over and over but I just... couldn't. My mother was crying on the couch after I ran into the bathroom with the bowl. She called my name several times, but gave up after I refused to come out.
The most detailed memory I have of my eating disorder, is this.
I placed the bowl on the counter of my sink and stared into the mirror. It's scary when you think about suicide regardless, but the fact I was so young and thinking about it almost every day made it more nerve wrecking. I hated myself. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that. I looked in the mirror into my eyes with tears streaming down my face (This may sound silly, but having my disorder, I really thought I just might die). I looked in the mirror and said "please Sam, please. You can do this." I took a mouthful of my food, and stared into the mirror again.
I swallowed it whole, clenching my fists, with my eyes shut tight.
I ran into the living room and yelled "Mom! I did it! I'm okay!" She looked at me exhausted and confused (most likely because she thought I was gonna dump my food). I put the bowl in her hands as she stood up. I reached my spoon into the bowl and took another mouthful; swallowing it whole.
My mother dropped the bowl and screamed of happiness. She hugged me tightly, and I explained how I had been going to the Counselor at school. She was so proud of me.
I was so proud of me.
Overall / Today
Mrs. W did buy me McDonald's.
I also knocked over the large drink in the cafeteria and everyone laughed. Including me.
At that point, I was happy. My depression, as well as my suicidal thoughts subsided.
Every now and then I'd have off days. I still do. There will be days when I feel I can't take anymore, but I think back and instead of frowning I smile. I still drink the shakes, except I think i'm on Ensure now. I still have problems in High School with the comments and rumors, but I try not to listen because only I truly know how far I've come. They'll never understand what i've gone through.
Sometimes people ask me, if I could go back, would I take it all away...
Well, the answers no.
Yes. This was/is an absolute living hell, but I learned so much. It has shaped me as a person. I've met extraordinary people. I've formed relationships with people I never ever thought I would. I am happy I went through hell, because if I made it this far, I can conquer anything. Anything, in my eyes, is possible. I just have to set my mind to it.
Sorry the post was so long, but I really did want to give you all as much insight as I could.
The reason i'm starting this blog, is because of this:
I have not lived without the consequences of my disorder. Due to not getting the proper vitamins, and eating hard things in order to make my teeth stronger, my teeth are no good anymore.
I'm going to be going through several surgeries/operations to take (most or all of) my teeth out and either get implants or dentures (I'll be finding out December 15th) but i'm very excited (in the happy, and terrified way)! It's going to be difficult since I hate the feeling of things slipping down my throat, but it has to be done!
Maybe this will help other people who have problems similar to mine or just hate the dentist!
Maybe this will help other people who have problems similar to mine or just hate the dentist!
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