Deanna & Melissa

ABOUT THE SERIES

The News-Press staff writer Francesca Donlan and photographer Amanda Inscore spent several months with Deanna Bray and Melissa DeHart, who were roommates in North Fort Myers. This six-part series chronicles their struggles with food. It has been estimated that as many as 20 million women and 1 million men in the United States face some type of eating disorder.

CHAPTER ONE

Melissa DeHart looked into her bathroom mirror and swiped blue eye shadow across her eyelids. She brushed mascara onto her eyelashes and applied glossy pink lipstick. But the makeup couldn't conceal the damage caused by 14 years of self-imposed starvation. Her short brown hair was dry and brittle. Her pale cheeks caved in. When she leaned over the sink to wash her hands, each vertebra on her spine pushed against skin that was like tissue paper. At 5-foot-6, she weighed 72 pounds. But Melissa didn't see an emaciated 31-year-old when she looked into the mirror. She saw someone who was fat. She pulled on baggy black pants and an oversized blue button-down shirt. She stepped out of the bathroom and was overwhelmed by the smell of fried bacon.

Her roommate, Deanna Bray, was cooking a low-carb breakfast of eggs and bacon.At 5-foot-10, Deanna weighed 305 pounds. Deanna, 46, also had an unhealthy relationship with food. She was a compulsive eater. While Melissa usually struggled to eat anything at all, Deanna fought the urge to eat all the time.They thought they could help each other: Deanna would encourage Melissa to eat more and Melissa would help Deanna eat less. On this hot May morning, the pair sat at the kitchen table. Deanna enjoyed her large breakfast while Melissa picked at her single scrambled egg white sprinkled with Equal. She used the artificial sweetener compulsively on everything she ate -- she liked the sweet taste. Melissa pulled up her shirt. "Is my stomach sticking out?" she asked Deanna. Melissa's ribs poked out above her swollen stomach. She was so thin that food caused her stomach to protrude --just like a starving child's. Deanna lifted up her own size 4X shirt and grabbed a handful of her belly. 

"Melissa," she said in exasperation. "This is fat." It was a typical day in Deanna's mobile home in North Fort Myers. Two women with eating disorders were trying to control the food that was controlling their lives.

ADDICTION

Melissa's condition is called anorexia nervosa, and it compels her to starve herself. She also has battled bouts of bulimia nervosa, another eating disorder that causes her to eat vast amounts of food -- binge -- and then make herself throw it up -- purge. Psychiatrists cite anorexia as among the deadliest of psychological disorders. Melissa was slowly killing herself with food -- and without food. Her teeth had lost enamel and appeared gray and decayed from years of vomiting. She was afflicted with osteoporosis, and suffered from gas and painful muscle cramps. The tops of two fingers had calluses because her teeth scraped them when she purged. She couldn't stay warm. She swore she would stop again and again. But she couldn't.

"My bones are as brittle as an 80-year-old woman's," Melissa said.Deanna's problem was different. She had been diagnosed as a compulsive overeater. She often couldn't stop eating until she felt sick. And after the sick/fullness feeling ended, she ate again. The cycle filled her with shame.Her eating disorder also caused medical problems. She had high blood pressure, acid reflux, sleep apnea and borderline diabetes."I worry that I'm going to die alone from a heart attack," she said.

24 HOURS

Melissa and Deanna had known each other for 14 months before they became roommates. They met at The Willough at Naples, a treatment center for drug and food addictions. Deanna was admitted to the clinic in March 2004 weighing 290. Melissa had checked in five months earlier, weighing 58 pounds. By May 2004, both had been discharged from the center, but they kept in touch. One night in April, Deanna's phone rang."Can I come live with you for a couple of months?" Melissa asked. She was living with her mother in Colorado and binging and purging again.A few days later, Melissa landed at Southwest Florida International Airport. She and Deanna promised to stay on healthy, balanced diets. Neither had jobs. They relied on disability checks to get by, but they could keep an eye on each other. Their friendship would help them control their eating disorders. Melissa had been in North Fort Myers for just 24 hours when Deanna banged on her bedroom door around midnight."I think I'm having a heart attack," she said. Minutes later an ambulance rushed Deanna, her boyfriend Ron Kimelton -- who was spending the night -- and Melissa to Lee Memorial Hospital.

URGENT CARE

Ron stayed with Deanna while doctors ran tests. Melissa sat in the waiting area. She needed something to eat.Melissa fished money from her purse and strode to the vending machines to buy one fat-free wafer bar.After she ate her wafer bar, the urge to binge kicked in.She hit more buttons. Potato chips, honey buns and more wafer bars fell into her hands. She downed three cans of fruit punch.She was sure people were staring at the skinny girl who kept eating and eating.When she had spent her last dime on packaged snacks and canned drinks, an urgency to get rid of what she ate took over. She walked briskly to the bathroom near the waiting room, entered a stall, stuck two fingers down her throat and gagged into the toilet. Nothing came up. She panicked. A nurse asked if she was OK."I'm fine," she shouted. But she was sweating. She was shaking. The force to purge was stronger than anything she could control. As hard as she tried to vomit, she couldn't get the food out. 

Fifteen anxious minutes later, still unable to vomit, Melissa was desperate. She headed to the nurses' station."I just took a bottle of Tylenol PM," she told the nurses. She pretended to faint. Deanna heard a nurse paging hospital security on the intercom. Nurses strapped Melissa to a bed, pushed a tube packed with activated charcoal down her throat and pumped her stomach. Despite the painful procedure, all Melissa could feel was relief; the food was coming out. Moments later, Melissa felt ashamed. She confessed. The ER doctor shook his head. He was going to send her to the Ruth Cooper Center for Behavioral Health Care for a 72-hour psychiatric hold."I've really screwed up this time," she thought. Seven hours after she arrived, Deanna was free to leave the hospital. Her diagnosis: a hiatal hernia and acid reflux. She walked into Melissa's hospital room and saw her arms and legs shackled to the bed, black charcoal stains around her mouth and mascara running down her thin face." Please give me another chance," Melissa begged. "And don't call Dr. Sacker. "Dr. Ira Sacker was Melissa's psychiatrist. He was co-author of the book "Dying to be Thin: Understanding and Defeating Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia." Deanna turned to walk away.

"I don't know if I can," Deanna said. "I didn't let you come here to do this to me."

ANOTHER CHANCE

Melissa was taken to Ruth Cooper under the Baker Act, which allows physicians to admit patients to psychiatric care if they are deemed a threat to themselves or others."I will not attend your dumb groups or eat your terrible baloney sandwiches," she told a nurse there.Back at her home, Deanna defied Melissa's request and called Dr. Sacker.He told Deanna she had to decide whether Melissa could stay in her home."The disease is tremendous," he said. "Melissa's identified with her disease for such a long time. The longer you have it, the harder it is to stop."The next day Deanna drove to Ruth Cooper and ticked off the rules: no binging and purging -- and no more dramatic stunts."I promise," Melissa said.The two women drove to Deanna's home in silence. Neither knew if Melissa was capable of keeping her promise.

ANOREXIA NERVOSA is characterized by self- starvation and excessive weight loss.Symptoms include:Refusal to maintain body weight at or above a minimally normal weight for height, body type, age and activity level.Intense fear of weight gain or being fat.Feeling fat or overweight despite dramatic weight loss.Loss of menstrual periods.Extreme concern with body weight and shape.

BULIMIA NERVOSA is characterized by a secretive cycle of binge eating and then getting rid of the food and calories through vomiting, laxative abuse or over-exercising. Symptoms include:Repeated episodes of binging and purging.Feeling out of control during a binge and eating beyond the point of fullness. Purging after a binge (typically by self-induced vomiting, abuse of laxatives, diet pills and/or diuretics, excessive exercise or fasting).Frequent dieting. Extreme concern with body weight and shape.

BINGE EATING DISORDER (also known as COMPULSIVE OVEREATING) is characterized by periods of uncontrolled, impulsive or continuous eating beyond the point of feeling comfortably full. While there is no purging, there may be sporadic fasts or repetitive diets and often feelings of shame or self-hatred after a binge. People who overeat compulsively may struggle with anxiety, depression and loneliness, which can contribute to their unhealthy episodes of binge eating. Body weight may vary from normal to mild, moderate or severe obesity.Source: National Eating Disorders Association or online at www.nationaleatingdisorders.orgthe FACTsThe News-Press, in conjunction with the Eating Disorder and Awareness Fund of the Southwest Florida Community Foundation, will host a free public forum about eating disorders next week.The forum will be at 7 p.m. Tuesday, Sept. 27, at Harborside Event Center. Doctors from across the country who treat eating disorders will speak, and a former anorexia nervosa sufferer will tell her story of recovery. Free informational materials will be available, including a reprint of this series.eating disorder seminarfriendsThe News-Press staff writer Francesca Donlan and photographer Amanda Inscore spent several months with Deanna Bray and Melissa DeHart, who were roommates in North Fort Myers. This six-part series chronicles their struggles with food.It has been estimated that as many as 20 million women and 1 million men in the United States face some type of eating disorder.

CHAPTER 2: LOSING AND GAINING WEIGHT

For four weeks in the spring, Deanna Bray stuck to a low-carb diet while Melissa DeHart ate five small meals a day.The roommates spent most of their time watching TV, going out for coffee and talking in Deanna's North Fort Myers mobile home.Both lived off meager disability checks. Deanna received $323 a month, barely enough to pay her lot rent. Melissa got $200 a month. Once a week they went to Subway for lunch.

They didn't enjoy eating out. Deanna, 46, who struggles with compulsive eating, was self-conscious about fitting into booths. Some bathroom stalls were so tight she couldn't use them. Melissa, 30, who battles anorexia, was afraid extra calories would be added to her food. That's why she ate only at Subway -- she could see exactly what went into her meal.Food was always on their minds. "You better drink that protein shake before we go out or you will get hungry," Melissa told Deanna before they left to do errands. At lunch, Melissa made a large salad in Deanna's kitchen. She sprinkled vinegar on it. "Where's the protein?" Deanna asked. "Where is the fat? You burn more calories eating that salad than what's in there."Melissa agonized over adding a couple of black olives."Add the olives," Deanna scolded.

MELISSA BEGAN DIETING

Melissa and Deanna had wrestled with food issues most of their lives.Melissa's eating disorder began in high school. At 5-foot-6 she weighed 135 pounds and wanted to lose weight. She began dieting unremarkably at 17, but soon, cereal at breakfast became an apple and then a cup of coffee. A 30-minute jog stretched to 60 minutes. She lived on sugarless gum and diet soda. High school friends in Estes Park, Colo., noticed she stopped eating lunch with them."If the thinnest girl is eating an apple, you eat nothing," Melissa told herself. Her other mandate: Starving must stay a secret. She dropped from 135 pounds to 99 pounds her senior year. She thought about food constantly. She wanted control in a life that felt out of control. Her mother, divorced since Melissa was 9, remarried and had another child while Melissa was in high school. Melissa had no relationship with her father. Melissa's body was maturing and it felt out of control. Her jeans grew tighter as her body matured. People commented on her changing shape. At night she felt so fat she imagined her bed falling through the floor.

She began bingeing and purging at 18. As she grew older Melissa began a cooking ritual, preparing elaborate themed meals. One evening it might be several Mexican dishes or several different types of pasta and sauces. Or she sat on her kitchen floor with piles of food around her: two large pizzas, chips, Doritos, pie, Oreos, soup -- whatever she had. The binges lasted from 10 p.m. to sunrise. She ate until her stomach swelled. She ate so much she couldn't walk and crawled to the garbage can to throw up.Her food habit cost her about $100 a day. She stole food from supermarkets, neighbors or anyplace she could find it. Standing in the freezer aisle, she stuck shrimp in her socks and stuffed cheesecake in her shirt. She drove to the worst part of town to buy doughnuts. She didn't want to be recognized.It got so bad that in 2003, her mother arrived at Melissa's Colorado apartment with a notary. She wanted Melissa to sign her own will. She knew her daughter could die at any time.

DEANNA ATE CANDY

Food began to rule Deanna's life when she got her first car. Up to that point, her grandmother, with whom she lived, served her healthy snacks and meals. But Deanna wanted candy.She drove her green Hornet to the 7-Eleven before class at North Fort Myers High School and filled paper bags with chocolate footballs, Atomic Fireballs, Dubble Bubble and peanut M&Ms. Sometimes she stole money from her grandfather's wallet to pay for her candy habit. At home, her two younger brothers could eat anything they wanted. But Deanna's tall, thin grandmother watched Deanna carefully. She didn't want her to get fat.She got married in 1980; her jealous fits about other women pushed her husband away after four years. Her second marriage, in 1990, dissolved after a year. She got engaged in 1993 to a man who physically and verbally abused her. He threatened to kill her grandparents if she left him. Her fiance's son had a similar disposition. 

One night in 1995, Deanna's soon-to-be daughter-in-law called her begging for help. Deanna and her fiance drove to the woman's home and watched as she pushed her husband out the front door with a shotgun pressed to his forehead. Deanna's fiance rushed to step between them. The woman pulled the trigger and accidentally shot Deanna's fiance in the heart. He fell face first into the dirt and Deanna watched him die. For years afterward Deanna rarely left her home. She stopped seeing friends. She didn't pick up the phone."Get up," Deanna's mother told her when she finally got through to her. "Do what normal people do. Plan something every day instead of lying in your bed and feeling sorry for yourself."But Deanna couldn't do it.Deep down she blamed her mother for her heartache. When she was 5, her mother left her to be raised by grandparents. If her mother didn't want her, why would anyone else? She took morphine for herniated discs that caused chronic back pain and Prozac for emotional pain. When she wasn't eating, she was thinking about eating. On a solo trip to Taco Bell one evening, Deanna ordered three burrito supremes, a bowl of refried beans, a taco pizza and nachos. She took the food home. Tears fell down her face as she bit into the third burrito." Why don't I have it in me to care about myself more?" she thought.

LIVES INTERSECT

Every Thursday, in North Fort Myers, the roommates weighed themselves on separate scales. Deanna would unlock her car and pull out the bathroom scale, which she hid from Melissa, who would weigh herself 20 times a day if she didn't. Deanna couldn't use that scale because it didn't read past 300 pounds. After Melissa weighed in, they drove to a North Fort Myers chiropractor's office for Deanna's turn.From April 13 to May 13, Melissa gained 10 pounds. She was up to 82 pounds. Deanna lost 24 pounds. She was down to 301. As Melissa's clothes grew tighter, Deanna's grew tired of being positive when Deanna lost weight but it bothered her. For 14 years it had been her job to lose weight."You're resentful that I'm losing, aren't you?" Deanna asked.Melissa had to agree."It's hard to know who I am without my anorexia," she said.

GETTING BETTER

While psychiatrists diagnosed Melissa as having an eating disorder in her teens, Deanna learned she was a compulsive overeater at 44.Just over a year ago, after her fourth back surgery, she decided she could cope without pain medication. She tried going cold turkey to get off the methadone her doctor prescribed, but her body shook and ached. In March 2004 she called Southwest Florida Addiction Services in Fort Myers for help. Deanna spent five days at the rehabilitation center. She was the only patient not addicted to street drugs. But like all the other addicts, she woke up at 6 a.m. for blood pressure checks, went to therapy, watched the treatment-center movie starring Sandra Bullock, "28 Days," and talked about the power of addiction. And that's when Deanna made a startling discovery. As she trudged through Cocaine Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous, she heard people talk about their compulsions and obsessions."I finally realized I'm here for the same reason they are here," she told her counselor. "But I'm not a drug addict. My drug of choice is food."

CHAPTER THREE - Hollywood Knocks

People stared at Deanna Bray and Melissa DeHart when they went out. Over 14 years, Melissa had grown accustomed to it. Sometimes she stared back."Hi, the name's Rexic," she said. "Annie Rexic."At 5-foot-6, Melissa weighed 82 pounds and suffered from anorexia nervosa. Deanna weighed 300 pounds and ate compulsively."I understand it," Deanna said to her roommate about the public interest. "It's like a big tall guy and a short fat wife; you can't help but look." But the attention irritated Deanna. "What are you looking at!" she yelled at someone in a car slowing down in the parking lot at the North Fort Myers Wal-Mart.

STEPPING OUT

People also stared at Melissa because she looked familiar. Melissa appeared on "The Maury Povich Show" on Feb. 12, 2003, in New York.In her North Fort Myers home that day, Deanna turned on the show, as she did every weekday at 2 p.m. She stared in disbelief at the tiny woman who thought she was fat.Deanna ate potato chips and listened to Melissa's mother, brother and sister describe their frustration and helplessness.Melissa's mother, Eileen Phillips, said she fought for years to keep her daughter alive. Helping Melissa left her emotionally exhausted; her life became a blur of ambulances, hospitals and psychiatric wards. The family spent more than $100,000 on treatment. Eileen, a personal trainer and devout Jehovah's Witness, valued a healthy lifestyle. Being slim and fit was a high priority in her household. She had no idea the oldest of her three daughters would take it to an extreme. Tears ran down Deanna's face as Melissa told Maury Povich that she would probably die."I don't understand how she could see herself as so fat," Deanna thought. "She is so thin."

HOLLYWOOD CALLS

"Entertainment Tonight" also wanted to air Melissa's story. They asked her to come to California. Melissa and her best friend, Amanda Grassier, flew to Los Angeles in October 2003.The women stayed at the Beverly Hilton in Beverly Hills. Amanda watched her friend eat hot vegetable mush from room service. Melissa took any over-the-counter medication that would sedate her. The pills suppressed her appetite but made her drowsy and paranoid. Melissa felt too sick to enjoy the trip. At 56 pounds she wore cushioned pads in her underwear so she could sit comfortably on hard surfaces. She slipped soft silicone bags into her bra because extreme weight loss had stolen her breasts. 

Amanda kept a close eye on Melissa. She was a loyal friend. The girls had met in a high school history class. Amanda, a junior, had just moved to Colorado and knew no one. Once Melissa befriended her, it changed Amanda's life. The new girl was no longer a high school outcast. Before Amanda closed her eyes that night in Beverly Hills, she prayed Melissa would wake up the next morning. On Oct. 30, 2003, Melissa appeared on "ET" for the first of what would become many appearances. The segment began: "She weighs just 56 pounds -- but is Hollywood to blame?""I just feel fat," Melissa told host Jan Carl. "Even though I know that I'm skinny." The next night, "ET" aired another feature on Melissa. She described her eating disorder as so irrational that she stole a ham at the reception after her grandmother's funeral. After the broadcast, 3,000 e-mails were sent to the television show."ET" wanted more of Melissa.

KEEPING CANDY

If Deanna had been watching "ET" that night, she would have understood Melissa's obsession with food. Deanna thought about food constantly. But there was a big difference between the two women. Melissa ate the ham and threw it up. Deanna hated to throw up. She would eat too much ham and cry. Later, she would eat more. She was trapped in a cycle of hating what she was doing but being unable to stop. A few days earlier she had picked out Halloween candy with every intention of passing it out. She bought bags of Snickers and Three Musketeers bars. But when the time came, Deanna was too depressed to hand out candy. She locked her door and turned off the lights. She watched movies and ate chocolate bar after chocolate bar.

FAST FRIENDS

Deanna never forgot about the sad, emaciated woman she saw on "Maury."And then, their paths crossed. Both were patients at The Willough at Naples, a treatment center specializing in food addiction. Deanna was admitted in March 2004 weighing 290. Melissa had checked in five months earlier weighing 58 pounds.Deanna met Melissa the night she was admitted but couldn't quite place her. Before going to bed, Deanna's roommate, also a compulsive eater, told her that Melissa had been on "The Maury Povich Show."

Deanna remembered the entire episode. It was hard for her to understand how someone as tiny as Melissa could feel so fat. Deanna's goal was to lose 150 pounds --almost three times Melissa's weight. The next morning Deanna tapped on Melissa's door. The heat in her room knocked Deanna backward. Melissa cranked up the heat because she couldn't stay warm. Deanna told Melissa she cried when she saw her on "Maury Povich" six months earlier."I don't know that much about anorexia," she told Melissa. "It's tough for me to understand how that disease works, but I hope we can talk and get to know each other." In the eating disorder treatment center, which holds about 40 patients, the two became inseparable. They watched movies in the library and ate meals together. Melissa had a self-deprecating sense of humor that made Deanna laugh."Why did the anorexic snort "Sweet'N Low?" Melissa asked Deanna. "She thought it was Diet Coke."

Stefanie Ingraham, director of nursing at The Willough, was familiar with such humor. Their friendship made sense to her.It was common for compulsive eaters and anorexics to become friends. Anorexics were competitive among themselves because they fought to be thinnest. Compulsive eaters often felt compassion for anorexics.

IN THE SPOTLIGHT

On a routine Thursday, back in North Fort Myers, the roommates drove to Dr. Curt Furbee's chiropractic office and weighed in. It was May 26. Melissa pulled out the silicone bags she wore in her bra cups, and slipped off her shoes. She stepped on the scale. Lately the number had fallen. Her highest weight was 82 pounds on May 13. Today she weighed 76.Deanna's eyes watered when she saw that number. But when Deanna stepped on, the scale read 299."Whoopee!" she hollered. She hadn't been under 300 pounds in a year. Secretly Melissa was pleased with her own weight loss. She'd been restricting food again. For four weeks she followed a strict five-meal plan but then something disrupted her routine. 

Hollywood had landed in North Fort Myers."Entertainment Tonight" had arrived at Deanna's home. Producers had been following Melissa's journey for the past two years and wanted a follow-up. "They only film me if I am recovering," Melissa told Deanna. "You are helping me get better."Melissa knew how to work the camera. A broadcast major at the University of Southwestern Louisiana in the mid-'90s and an aspiring broadcast journalist, she loved being in the spotlight. Producers filmed the roommates making meals, eating at Subway and walking down the aisles of the supermarket. Melissa and Deanna hoped the exposure and the celebrity would bolster their confidence.

It didn't.

Chapter Four - Getting Out

Melissa DeHart and Deanna Bray watched themselves on "Entertainment Tonight" when it aired the weekend of May 13. The show was replayed several times throughout the weekend."I'm sick of myself," Melissa said as she sucked on sugar-free candy and watched the show for the third time at Deanna's North Fort Myers home."I'm sick of the whole thing," Deanna fumed. The "ET" people told her they were doing a story about how Deanna, 46, a compulsive eater, and Melissa, 30, an anorexic, were helping each other overcome their eating disorders. But repeatedly, Deanna was referred to as the "300-pound overeater."

"They just showed me stuffing food in my mouth," Deanna grimaced. "They didn't really say anything about me. It was all about you," she told Melissa. After Melissa saw herself on "ET," something changed. She didn't particularly like watching the healthier Melissa on TV. Her body looked fat.

SLIPPING BACKWARD

During the days following the "ET" broadcast, Melissa fell back into her disease. For breakfast she made an egg white sprinkled with Equal. For lunch she ate lettuce leaves slathered in mustard and Equal. Dinner was another egg white sprinkled with Equal. A snack was a handful of 94 percent fat-free popcorn sprinkled with Equal or a sugar-free Popsicle. Friendship tested as hurdles appear Melissa put Equal on everything because she couldn't get enough of its sweet taste. She used 400 packets a week. Deanna noticed Melissa was slipping, and it made her angry. "You are not eating our meal plan," Deanna said angrily. They had agreed Melissa would eat five small meals a day. "You are not doing our program." Melissa's tears started to fall. "I feel like I'm in crazyville," she said. "My job is to get up and starve myself. I don't know who I am."

Melissa spent more time in her room surrounded by her fairy collection and her favorite Pippi Longstocking doll, which her mother had given her as a child. While Melissa was failing, Deanna tried hard to stay on her low-carbohydrate diet. But Deanna could feel the pull of her own eating disorder. She craved fast food but she didn't want to slide. She didn't want to fall down.

LOOKING BACK

Deanna knew about falling down. She had spent almost 10 years battling depression. For many of those years, she lived alone in the house her grandparents built in North Fort Myers. She suffered from chronic back pain. Her only source of comfort: food. She spent most of her time alone, eating, watching TV and sleeping. Deanna liked carbs: apple strudel, big pretzels, large bowls of pasta. Throughout the years food offered her a high, peace, comfort and deep satisfaction -- but it was always fleeting. By the time she hit her 40s her grandparents had died. Deanna suffered two failed marriages and a series of painful breakups. Sometimes in her home, Deanna ordered enough food for several people. She called Two Guys Pizza in Fort Myers and ordered lasagna and ziti. Then she would pause and yell out, "Do you want salad with that?" No one answered.

HANGING ON

After four weeks of living with Deanna, Melissa found herself spiraling downward. She had reached 82 pounds but her weight was dipping again. Since age 17 she had gone to five long-term treatment centers, dozens of hospitals and psychiatric wards. Her disorder had been life-threatening many times. In her attempt to control her life with food, food controlled her life. She called herself the "relapse queen" but she hoped this time would be different. She was tired of the institutions and the drama. She wanted to experience what other 30-year-olds had: love, sex, marriage. Eating too few calories had caused her to stop menstruating at 17, and she hadn't had a period since. She had never had a relationship. She had never had sex. The only men who were attracted to her wanted to save her. It seemed no one could save her now. She couldn't stop the force that told her to stop eating. She ate less and less. She had to push herself through this, she told herself. Once she left The Willough at Naples, she was determined never to go back to a treatment center again.

STEALING TIME

Melissa had been at The Willough for six months when Deanna arrived. In those six months, Melissa went to the hospital three times -- once after dipping into her secret stash of Benadryl, another time after falling off her bed and breaking her hip. The third time she went after she left the center, swallowed a box of laxatives and fell into a grassy ditch outside a Naples gas station. But the most dramatic event came after Deanna arrived. Deanna had been at The Willough for three weeks when staff members began looking under things in the TV room and flipping through books. "What are they looking for?" Deanna asked. A patient and her parents had reported jewelry missing. Someone had stolen a platinum engagement ring worth $6,000 and a silver wedding band worth $50.Melissa confessed to the theft. For reasons she couldn't explain, she chose to go shopping in other people's rooms. Police officers slapped handcuffs around her tiny wrists. They charged Melissa with grand theft and booked her at the Collier County Jail.

Stefanie Ingraham, nursing director at The Willough, answered the phone at home later that night and learned Melissa had been arrested. She was livid. Stealing was a trait sometimes associated with anorexia. Because of her disease, Melissa thought the world revolved around her. She was supposed to be safe at The Willough, Stefanie seethed. They were supposed to deal with those issues internally. Deanna heard about Melissa's arrest the next morning. She couldn't believe she would steal and defended her to the other patients. In jail, Melissa didn't eat for four days. She wore an orange jumper and brown shoes and slept on a mattress in the corner. A chaplain had her transferred to the infirmary unit. Charges were dropped. At the end of the fourth day, Melissa returned to The Willough and was confined to a wheelchair. She had dislocated her hip falling off a bunk bed in jail and the staff didn't want more problems. "ET" flew in a camera crew to The Willough for another follow-up. Melissa told the national audience she wanted to die of shame for stealing. They showed her mug shot. The title of the show: "Celebrity Anorexic Steals."

FINDING GIFTS

Unlike Melissa, who had been to five treatment centers, Deanna was at her first. At The Willough, she missed her friends and she couldn't sleep. For the first time, she had to confront the reasons she ate too much. In therapy she realized she felt abandoned by her parents. She never forgave her mother for leaving her as a young girl with her grandparents in North Fort Myers. Her mother, a young, single woman with three children, needed her parents' help. For all these years, she had blamed her mother for her failures. But one night at The Willough, she decided to reclaim her life. She picked up the pay phone and called Clewiston. "I'm sorry," she told her mother. "I'm sorry for blaming you for everything that's gone wrong in my life. I'm going to take responsibility for my own life." Deanna sobbed. Betty McClelland cried along with her oldest child and only daughter. "I know I wasn't the best mother in the world, but I love you so much," Betty said. That was the most important phone call Betty McClelland had ever gotten. When Deanna left The Willough after 30 days, she weighed 6 pounds less than when she arrived and a $40,000 bill was headed to Medicare. But Deanna left with some gifts: She had learned to forgive and was reclaiming her life.

Chapter Five - Weighing the Costs

After "Entertainment Tonight's" feature about Melissa DeHart and Deanna Bray and their struggles with eating disorders aired in May, Melissa relapsed. She started restricting food again. She ate tiny bits: a handful of popcorn, a sugar-free popsicle, a lettuce leaf slathered with mustard. Deanna, 46, became more and more frustrated. She wanted to conquer her compulsion to eat and knew Melissa, 30, was back in the grip of anorexia. For the first time since Melissa arrived to stay in her North Fort Myers mobile home a month before, Deanna left her alone for hours. She drove to craft stores or visited friends. She needed space. Finally, after a few days of Melissa's isolation and silent treatment, Deanna marched into her room."Get up and eat," she said."I'm not eating," Melissa said softly as she lay on her bed. "I just want to be left alone." 

Deanna urged her to talk about what she was going through, but Melissa wouldn't budge."You promised you wouldn't pull any more crap," Deanna yelled at Melissa. "You did not keep your promise." A month before, Melissa had faked an overdose at Lee Memorial Hospital after bingeing on food, and her stomach was pumped. Afterward, she promised she wouldn't starve, binge or purge. And now Deanna's temper burst." You have 15 minutes to pack your bags," she yelled. "You are not dying in my house." Melissa got up and stormed into the living room."Do whatever you want with my stuff, I'm outta here," she shouted. Melissa slammed the front door and walked outside in the 90-degree heat. She had alienated most of her friends and family."I don't even have a place to die," she thought.

MAKING UP

About 10 minutes later, Melissa returned."I don't have any place to go," she told Deanna.Melissa stayed in her room all day and came out once to make sugar-free hot chocolate.The next morning she emerged to eat a scrambled egg white."Are you going to eat a piece of bread too?" Deanna asked.Melissa shook her head no. She made her egg and went back into her room.Later in the afternoon, Deanna knocked on Melissa's door and sat on her bed."This is not working," she said. "You made an agreement. You're going to have to find another place to live."Melissa called Stefanie Ingraham, former director of nursing at The Willough at Naples. Stefanie had cared for Melissa for seven months at the center for the treatment of eating disorders.Melissa also called her best friend, Amanda Grassier, who lived in Colorado. Amanda made arrangements for Melissa to live with her parents in Colorado until she could find her own place.Stefanie pitched in for Melissa's plane tickets.While Melissa made plans for her departure, Deanna borrowed money from her mother to pay her bills. With a plan for their futures secured, the tension between Deanna and Melissa eased. They wanted to have some fun before Melissa left Florida.

DINING OUT

Deanna and Melissa agreed to have dinner at TGI Friday's in Fort Myers with Stefanie the week before Melissa left for Colorado. Stefanie would bring Melissa's plane tickets.Neither of the women liked to eat out. Melissa felt anxious about strangers making her food and Deanna was self-conscious about fitting into a booth.Melissa had struggled for days with eating. Going out to dinner made her feel vulnerable but she wanted to see Stefanie.At the restaurant the women requested a table. Stefanie brought Melissa a Tinkerbell figurine."We're all clapping for you like Tinkerbell," Stefanie said.When the waiter arrived, Melissa ordered a plain spinach salad and a side of green beans. Deanna ordered a low-carb chicken entree.The women reminisced about The Willough. Stefanie talked about the challenges of fighting anorexia."It's about wanting a better life and wanting to not be so consumed by yourself," she said. "There's so much more."The waiter brought their food. He placed a steaming plate of green beans beside Melissa's salad. She looked terrified and asked for a to-go box.That much food made her feel like she did when she binged and purged. She imagined the beans swimming in butter and oil.Stefanie knew exactly what Melissa was going through -- professionally and personally.

STEFANIE'S STORY

Stefanie, pretty and athletic, was only a few years older than Melissa.Stefanie suffered from anorexia during her teens and early 20s. She followed a common path to the eating disorder: She was a gymnast who later became a college cheerleader.It wasn't until Stefanie came home from college her senior year that her father wrapped his shaking arms around her rail-thin body and said, "Please do not do this to yourself."His emotional and physical reaction jarred Stefanie enough that she sought help. Not only did she overcome her eating disorder but she also became a role model for Melissa.At the restaurant, Stefanie speared one of the shrimp from her fajitas and handed it to Melissa. She popped it right into her mouth."I have to fool my disease and not even think about what I'm eating," Melissa said.

NEW FRIENDS

On their last night together, Friday, June 10, Deanna and Melissa went to a karaoke bar on Fort Myers Beach. Deanna dressed as usual in a loose top and jean shorts. Melissa wore a red button-down shirt with black baggy pants and red sandals. She wore red lipstick and red nail polish. The bar, a tiki hut a couple of blocks from the beach, was packed with many barefoot, tattooed locals."Were you on TV?" a woman asked Melissa politely. Melissa nodded and the woman gave her a big bear hug. A buzz about Melissa began building in the bar. People noticed Deanna as well. The roommates scanned the book of karaoke songs. Deanna considered singing "Queen of the Doublewide Trailer."Melissa handed the DJ a slip of paper with her request: "Sweet Dreams Are Made of This," sung by Annie Lennox of Eurythmics. When they called Melissa's name she grabbed the microphone like a pro. She swiveled her hips, shook her head backward and belted out the lyrics. A man standing at the bar also noticed Melissa and had heard about her TV appearances from others in the bar. When Deanna took the microphone to sing "That's What Friends Are For," the man at the bar put down his beer and asked Melissa to dance.Deanna smiled. "This song is for you, Melissa," she said. The man wrapped his arms around Melissa's thin waist and pulled her close. She grinned and waved to Deanna."Can I take you to McDonald's?" he whispered."No thanks," she said with a smile. Later he asked Deanna why Melissa won't eat."It's all in her head," Deanna said." Can't you talk her out of it?" he asked."I wish I could," she said.He thought about it for a while."What about you," he said with a sly smile. "Want to work some of that weight off?"

TAKING OFF

On June 11, Deanna drove Melissa to Southwest Florida International Airport. Melissa weighed 72 pounds -- the same as she did when she arrived in Fort Myers two months before. At 299, Deanna had lost about 27 pounds.Melissa knew she had to start eating. She promised her friend Amanda she would eat three meals a day but she was scared to eat that much food. "I love you," Melissa said to Deanna before going through airport security. Deanna hugged her friend goodbye. She worried about her health; she wondered if she'd see her again. "I love you too," she said.

Chapter Six - Making Dreams Happen

Days after Melissa DeHart's June move to Colorado, Deanna Bray joined Curves, a fitness club in North Fort Myers.Deanna was determined to lose 140 pounds. She did not want to be the heaviest person at her 30th reunion at North Fort Myers High School next year.Her boyfriend, Ron Kimelton, had been in a treatment program for alcoholism during the two months that Melissa, who suffered from anorexia, had stayed with Deanna.Newly sober, Ron was back in Deanna's life.

One steamy night in August, the couple sat in Deanna's mobile home watching TV."I really want a cold beer," Ron said. Deanna knew exactly how he felt. She had been thinking about the cake that had been sitting on her kitchen counter all evening." I really want a piece of chocolate cake," she said. But Deanna, 47, a compulsive eater, vowed not to give in to her obsessive thoughts about food. Life without Melissa was different. With Ron visiting frequently, she stocked her house with tempting foods. But since Melissa left she'd lost a few pounds and shed 37 inches by exercising. A few days after Melissa arrived in Colorado, Deanna called Melissa's friend, Amanda Grassier. 

Deanna wanted to remind Amanda that Melissa owed her $500. She also asked Amanda to look through Melissa's luggage because some CDs were missing. Melissa called back."I didn't take anything from you!" she yelled. "I don't even like country music." Melissa was furious that Deanna would accuse her of stealing. The insults flew."Don't ever call my friends or me again," she said.Deanna yelled back."I won't ever call your friends again and I don't care if I ever hear from you again. You're an ungrateful liar and a thief. Don't contact me again."

BACK ON THE AIR

Melissa lived with Amanda's parents for most of June and July. She didn't starve, binge or purge. She gained a few pounds. She also got a helping hand from a friend of Amanda's who lent Melissa money to rent an apartment and buy furniture. By the end of July, Melissa turned 31 and moved into her own place. This time she didn't put a scale in it. She began distributing her resumes at area cafes, restaurants and stores. She knew her resume was a little unusual. She had lived in hospitals and treatment centers for almost three years fighting anorexia. Her only references were from the producers of "Entertainment Tonight," who had been reporting on her life for the past two years. She crossed her fingers and dropped a resume at a small local television station: EPTV, Channel 8 inEstes Park,Colo.Her luck finally changed. Nick Molle, the president of the TV station, called her for an interview. Two days later he hired her to work part time as a general assignment reporter. It was the first professional broadcast job she'd had since college. "ET" was on the scene her first day on the job. Producers followed her around EPTV and videotaped her asking people on the street why they moved to Estes Park.Near the end of August, Amanda's friend also lent Melissa money to buy a 1991 Ford Mustang."Ever since I've been doing everything right things have been going so well," she said. "It's all happened so fast."

FINDING FITNESS

For the first time in her life Deanna has stuck with a fitness program. She works out three to five times a week.While getting exercise every day has become easier, her compulsion to eat remains a powerful force.One early morning in August Deanna had just finished eating eggs and bacon for breakfast. Moments later, she was sitting quietly in the recliner in her living room."What are you thinking about?" Ron asked."I'm thinking about what I'm going to have for lunch," she said.

KEEPING ON

Like Deanna, Melissa can't escape her eating disorder. It follows her everywhere. She thinks about it before every single bite passes her lips.But she knows she's not alone."Our society is basically about the way we look," Melissa said. "It's amazing that every person in the world doesn't have an eating disorder. Walk by any magazine -- the thin get glamour and wear couture. They are hungry and miserable and taking drugs because they keep you from eating. The world has become more obsessed with bodies. It's hard when you have an eating disorder to live in a world like this."Melissa wakes up every morning willing to try."So many people have eating disorders," Melissa said. "They live with it and are never happy or they die and are forgotten. Their friends and family just stand by their grave and say, 'We did all we could.' "The 31-year-old has spent 14 years battling eating disorders and the future scares her sometimes."I've seen tons of old anorexics," Melissa said. "It's hard seeing them have it. They've never married or had sex. By then it's too late. At 17 if I had been put in the hospital my chances of getting better would have been higher. It's hard for me to get better because it is so ingrained. It's like you're in prison every day. It's your lover, best friend: It takes over your body."Her psychiatrist, Dr. Ira Sacker, who wrote a book about anorexia, "Dying to be Thin," continues to hope for Melissa."We are such a body-oriented society," he said. "People can see how difficult it is. She will be at a crossroads. If she wants it bad enough she can get better. You've got to fight for your health."Sacker has also gotten to know Deanna and is proud of her weight loss. He's pulling for both women."Florida made a difference," he said. "Melissa had to create a space with Deanna. She had to be responsible. Deanna was superb at making her face her issues."

MOVING FORWARD

Recently Deanna found a list of dreams she compiled after she left The Willough at Naples, a treatment center for eating disorders, a year and a half ago. Wanting to lose more than 100 pounds was just one of many dreams.She wants to meet Oprah Winfrey, learn how to take photographs at an African gaming preserve, visit Australia and spend one night at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas just so she can say she did.She wants to walk into a store and pick out a size 12 outfit and know it will fit without trying it on.She looks forward to a day when she can enjoy a piece of cake without being tempted to eat the whole thing."I'm going to struggle with my eating disorder the rest of my life," she said. "I'm sure there will be times I will falter and I'll think it's going to send me back to the old Deanna. But I don't ever want to go back there again."

MAKING IT HAPPEN

Melissa has her own list of dreams. "ET" aired her latest segment about her new job last week. Producers will continue to follow her life and air updates. 

Her position as a general assignment reporter has been a dream come true. But she still thinks about whether or not she's going to eat. She feels "big" but says she doesn't have the physical strength to starve herself these days. She hasn't weighed herself in weeks."It's too hard to be that sick," she said. Her anger toward Deanna has dissipated and she knows they will rekindle their friendship in the future. In the meantime, she wants to make people aware of eating disorders, start support groups and speak in schools." Estes Park is where I started my disease and this is where I want to end it," she said. "The only way to become a successful anorexic is to die. Then you can put on your gravestone, 'Here lies the perfect anorexic.'"She knows she's survived for some reason."I want to be the perfect recovering anorexic."

FOLLOWING DREAMS

Stefanie Ingraham, former director of nursing at The Willough, conquered her own anorexia and served as a role model for Melissa. She is cheering on both women. She understands the daily battles with an eating disorder -- and knows you can win." You have to recognize that people have done it," she said. "Do you want to succeed or do you want to be consumed by your body and what you can and cannot eat?" Stefanie speaks to nursing students at Florida Gulf Coast University throughout the year. They ask her about their friends who won't eat or confide that they may have a problem. They want to know how she overcame anorexia. "I got to the point where I wanted a new life and I was going to do everything in my power to have a new life," she said. "I wanted the life I deserved. "But she couldn't get help until she realized she had a problem. "Melissa represents an extreme case," she said. "But many people are in the beginning stages of an eating disorder and friends and family are afraid to talk about it. Maybe we can start beating this if we can attack the problem early."

She holds out hope for both Deanna and Melissa. "They can follow their dreams just like I did," she said. "They just have to want it bad enough."