Valley wife shares story of recovery

The former Springfield High School cheerleader was in and out of treatment.
By GAIL WHITE
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
Lindsay Morris feels like the luckiest woman in the world.
At 25, she is married, has a wonderful son with a baby on the way, and lives in a beautiful home in McDonald. She has a bachelor's degree in history and plans to get her teaching certificate.
"I never thought any of this would be possible," Morris said. "I am so thankful for everything."
When she was a sophomore in high school, Morris developed an eating disorder.
For the next nine years, as Morris went from a teenager to a young woman, she struggled with the disease. It was a struggle that nearly cost her her life.
"Basically, it started as a diet that got out of control," Morris explained the beginning stages of her illness. "I just wanted to look better."
Influences
Like many people who struggle with an eating disorder, Morris was athletic, smart and ambitious.
It was these characteristics that helped her achieve being the youngest girl on the varsity cheerleading squad at Springfield Local High School. However, those same characteristics, along with a strong drive for perfection, played a large role in her life-threatening disease.
"I wanted to be popular and thin like all the other girls," Morris said. What her determined mind couldn't see was that her 5 foot 9 inch, 122-pound body already was thin.
"At first, I did the usual diet things," Morris said. "I cut out fats and junk food. Then it started spiraling out of control -- no protein, no vegetables."
Remembering how obsessed she had become, Morris said, "It got to where I was eating one or two carrots a day and a can of soda for sugar energy."
She lost nearly 30 pounds. Morris' parents, Allen and Elaine Gibson, knew something was wrong with their daughter. Morris remembers the day her mother realized just how sick she was.
"My mom cut up a peach and wanted me to eat it," Morris said. "I stared at it and started to cry. I couldn't do it. I was so afraid that if I ate that peach I would gain weight."
"Food scared me," she said. "Your mind gets so controlled by it."
She started making promises to her parents. "I told them I would gain weight. I knew I needed to gain weight."
She made good on her promises -- for a while.
"Everything is a vicious cycle with this disease," Morris said sadly.
Temporary control
She finished her sophomore year at her normal weight, but the disease was taking its toll in other areas of her life. She didn't make the cheerleading squad for her junior year.
"I was weak from what I had put my body through," she said.
The disease had a social effect as well.
"I had lost all my friends," she said. "People didn't know about anorexia back then. They didn't understand that I didn't want to be this way."
Even Morris' pediatrician told her parents to just make her eat.
"The only friend I had at that point was my eating disorder," she said. So she embraced her "friend" once again.
She spent her junior year of high school going from one extreme to the other -- not eating or eating and throwing it up.
"I had no life because everything revolved around eating," she recalled.
In an attempt to make a fresh start, Morris switched schools her senior year. But her disease had control of her.
Parents take action
Her parents had reached a point where they feared for their daughter's life. They sent her to an in-patient treatment facility in Pittsburgh. When she arrived at the clinic, Morris weighed 85 pounds.
During her month-long stay, she returned to her normal weight.
"I wanted to get better," she explained. She was able to finish her senior year healthy.
In the fall, she attended Youngstown State University. Living on campus in a dormitory, Morris did very well until the end of her freshman year.
"They call it the freshman 15," she said, describing a popular sentiment about weight gain when students go to college.
For Morris, it wasn't 15 pounds, but she had gained a few. It was then that she realized dieting wasn't going to work for her. "Any diet I put myself on went haywire."
She ended up back at the treatment center in Pittsburgh again. She was hospitalized two more times during college. At one point, she was having heart palpitations.
"I did not have enough food in my system to run my vital organs," Morris explained, still overwhelmed by the severity of her condition at that time. "I could have died."
"I never thought I would live past 25 with this eating disorder," Morris said. "Since I had had it for so long, I didn't remember who I was before it. I identified myself by my illness."
Sighing, she said, "Today, I am totally different than I ever was."
Giving credit
"I can't tell you how much my parents mean to me," Morris said, choking up with tears. "When I look back on the years when I was sick, I can't believe they didn't kick me out. This disease affects the whole family -- financially and emotionally. I thank God everyday for them."
Morris met her husband, Michael, her junior year in college. He was with her through her last hospitalization. "It was hard for him to understand," she said. But he stuck by her and helped her get through. "He's a lifesaver."
Then there is Caidan, the couple's 2-year-old son. "They told me I would never have children," she said, explaining that battling her illness took a toll on her body. "He's a miracle," she said, beaming.
She gained 40 pounds during her pregnancy and has not relapsed back into her eating disorder since Caidan was born.
Today, Morris is six months pregnant with the couple's second child.
"It's always going to be something I deal with for the rest of my life," Morris said. "Like a little voice in the back of my head."
But she is determined to win the battle of her mind that attacks her body.
"I am so thankful for everything," Morris said, thinking of her parents, her husband, her children, her home and her career. "I never thought any of these things were possible for me. ... I'm so thankful I didn't die."