I'm in the hospital right now. The only way I wrote this was because I'm on the computer there. This is my only time that I'm allowed on it during my stay. I was diagnosed with melancholic depression and anorexia nervosa. The reason why I was taken to the hospital was because my parents thought I was way too skinny and wasn't eating enough. When I told them I had swalled about six capsules of Tylenol, they rushed me over to have my stomach pumped. I don't know why I did it. I really don't. My therapist says that it maybe was from the depression. No one really knows for sure. When they weighed me at the hospital, I was only about 93 pounds. About 15 pounds lighter than I should be. I got that way from barely eating the past seven weeks. Something kept telling me that the only way I'd be liked, was if I was skinny and pretty. I tried not listening to it, but at the same time, I couldn't not listen to it. Now I have to take a lot of medicine in the morning, and be watched at all times, except if I'm in the bathroom or changing. My door can't be closed and I'm being forced to eat at least 500 calories three to four times a day, to help me gain back weight. I can't believe it all came down to this. Me, having to sit in a hospital bed for two weeks being forced to eat and take medicine. I wish all of this never happened.