Attenzione: Questa
pagina riporta interviste e parole di amici e di parenti di Suni, nonchè
addirittura sue stesse parole, una traduzione dalla lingua originale
avrebbe comunque variato l'essenza che si voleva trasmettere, si è
dunqe deciso di riportare le parole esatte in lingua inglese quindi.
It was a way for me to feel numb. Like I could
take everything in, all of the day's stress-all of the feelings I felt-and
just get rid of them all at once by just throwing it up.
For more than two years, this has been 16-year-old Suni Eisenberg's
chosen coping mechanism. This is how she deals with life. She is in
the early stages of what may be a long fight with bulimia. Suni's mom,
Saras is a busy mother and an active community volunteer. In the documentary,
we witness her efforts to understand the complex family dynamics that
seem to play a role in her daughter's illness. Suni's father, a Harvard
graduate, is a retired radiologist, a wheelchair user, restricted by
a disability and in constant pain. The challenges of his life intensify
the family's emotional struggle. Not wanting to be more of a burden
on her family, Suni kept her eating disorder hidden. The A student's
grades fell. She became depressed and her bulimia worsened. Upon discovering
Suni's eating disorder, her parents moved to admit her into the only
inpatient treatment center for eating disorders in Washington state,
only to discover it had closed. Soon after, Suni stole her father's
morphine, and one night kissed him goodnight and then attempted to take
her own life. Suni was hospitalized and survived, but attempted suicide
a second time two weeks later.
Suni:
It was like me saying, "I need help. I need help now!" without
actually saying the words.
Doctors recommended long-term treatment for Suni, who was admitted
to a private clinic for almost three months. A few days after returning
home, Suni went into the shower and made herself throw up.
You just start eating and throwing up again, and
it's just, like, "Oh, that was a waste. I'm a waste. Look at me,
I can't do anything." It kind of-it feels bad. It does, it hurts.
There's nothing worse than knowing that ... your parents spent a lot
of money trying to help you get better, and you just wasted all of it.
Her parents sent her to Remuda Ranch, a treatment center in Arizona.
The managed care, not covered by insurance, cost $63,000. But Suni's
treatment and intensive family therapy gave them hope. Suni's father
is committed to learning and to fostering a healing environment at home
and helping Suni adjust. Her sister, Rashi, who looks up to Suni, believes
Suni could get better if she wanted to. Saras is looking forward to
having a well girl again, and now knows that the healing process will
be long and will involve Saras changing as well. As much as Saras has
done for her kids, she worries she was a "distant Mom", and
not the kind of Mom that Suni wanted.
Saras:
Only if you're true to yourself, then you know you can start to heal.
After 60 days of treatment and over $60,000, everyone hoped that Suni
was on the road to recovery, but the day after she arrived home, Suni
forced herself to vomit.
I don't do it on purpose. It's not like, "Okay,
I hate myself," there's not those thoughts that go through my brain
... like, "Okay, I'm gonna self-destruct now." I mean, it's
just something that happens, that my brain does. And this eating disorder
is so tricky. And it's so overwhelming that it really-it's deceiving...
it lies.
Those lies cost her and her family years of suffering and at
this point nearly $100,000 dollars. Suni is not yet recovered.
Epilogue
When you see Suni now, you're at once struck with how vibrant, smart,
pretty and truly sweet she is. You wouldn't know of her ongoing struggle
with her eating disorder. There is an incredible discrepancy between
perception and reality. Suni appears happy with herself: a talkative,
busy young woman who works as a nanny and loves it, and is sending out
college applications. She is lovely, talented, intelligent, liked by
so many, but barely withstanding problems of enormous magnitude. "Depression
and suicide run in my family," Suni says. She believes this legacy
has a lot to do with her eating disorder. An antidepressant, a mood-leveling
drug, and a prescription to help her sleep have alleviated some of her
symptoms. Therapy has given her great comfort; she is happy with her
doctor and can talk comfortably, and most importantly, be heard. Saras
and Suni continue to work on their relationship. Saras still attends
a parents' support group; but the Eisenbergs are not in family or group
counseling. Will Suni ever be completely cured? She thinks so, but also
sees this illness as something that is a part of her, something that
will never go away, like being a gambler or an alcoholic. "It's
hard to pass by a liquor store or the casino. But you do it." She
laughingly says that she is like someone who bites their nails and knows
they should stop, but sometimes forgets: they just do it because that's
what they do. They can't stop.
She plans to.
But right now her illness is very much a part of her life.
Suni:
Someone with an eating disorder just has to know
there is a better life out there. Just keep saying that to yourself
and you will believe it.