Not the worst, but something that’s really high up there is from my first hospital admission for anorexia. It was an involuntary admission, I was barely 16, and at this particular moment I hadn’t eaten for almost a week and had been transferred from my local emergency department to a larger hospital. The doctor told me I had a choice between eating something, or an NG tube. He came back a little while later and I was really upset but said I would finally eat. I would do anything to avoid that tube. But he had changed his mind and there was no longer a choice — I was going to get an NG tube. And so I began arguing and crying and pleading and panicking and refusing. He had some nurses physically hold me still and hold my head so that he could insert the NG tube, while I cried and tried to resist.