I love food too much to be anorexic
I don't ever recall a time in my life where I haven't feared being "fat" or obsessed over what I have eaten. I remember planning diets at 10 years old, but I rarely ever stuck to them. I don't really remember anyone telling me I was fat, I just always thought I was. There was one time in 1st grade where a kid in my class saw a baby picture and said I was a really fat baby, and for some reason those words stuck with me through out my Elementary years. I never wanted to be the "fat girl." But nothing too serious in those years from what I can remember.
I've always had something to not be happy about, whether its my hair, skin, laziness, school work, or the feeling of inadequacy. But most of all, it was always my weight. I hated myself. I could never look in the mirror and be satisfied. When I was about 12 years old, and I reached 100lbs, I cried. My mom was scared and wanted to take me to a therapist right away, but I didn't have a problem. I just thought I was FAT.
I don't think my problem really started until I was 14 years old. I don't really remember though. It was a year where I didn't really have a true friend to confide in, and my family didn't get along very well. I felt like my friends were constantly talking bad behind my back, talking about how much I ate, or how fat I was... But it wasn't until the next year that I figured out they weren't. It was all in my head. That year I became depressed, I would look forward to coming home from school just so I could pig out. I never threw up, so I did gain a little bit of weight. But since I was working out, it kept my weight balanced. Towards the end of the year, I looked at pictures of myself in my cheer uniform. I WAS FAT... So I thought. I immediately began to restrict, restrict, and restrict. I lost a little bit of weight, but nothing too much. It wasn't until that summer when I went away to camp, I began to starve myself. I didn't eat anything all week. And when I got back I barely ate anything. When I did eat, I ate saltine crackers or some fruit. I still wasn't drastically under weight, I was about 100lbs at 5'6, but I didn't look well. Right before my freshman year started at high school, I went to cheer camp. While I lifted a girl in a stunt (I have always been an athletic built girl, toned arms, abs, etc. So I was a base (lifts), but I wanted to be the flyer of course) I passed out. It scared my coach, scared me as well, and it was enough for me to get my life back together, but I was still scared to eat normal, but I eventually did. I told everyone I had the stomach flu a few days before and everyone believed me.
My freshman year was pretty normal from what I can remember, and it wasn't until the second semester of my sophomore year that my eating issues began again. It wasn't too bad. I would constantly plan a new diet, and when the diet failed I'd binge. So I learned to throw up, I only did a few times I think, nothing too bad. I just remember it burning and hurting so I didn't like it that much. I was getting so down because I had actually gained weight.
The next year I didn't make Cheerleader for the first time, and I felt like Cheerleading was the only thing I had. Most of all I felt like a failure. I absolutely thought I should just die, because I was useless. My best friends were Cheerleaders, and so the next year when I wasn't on the squad, I lost most of my best friends because I never saw them, I lost my security, my identity. That's what everyone knew me as, and at the end of the day it didn't matter if I had a bad hair day, because I was a cheerleader. I was something what other girls wanted to be. Not anymore. Now my identity is my eating disorder. I had nothing else. This is when I specifically remember my binge/purge cycle began habitually. I had a change in friends, social status, extra curriculers, and most importantly... My grades had dropped drastically instead of my weight! I am a Junior in high school and I have been binging/purging for about 6 or 7 months. I do it 2 to 7 times a day usually, and it is absolute hell. I get chest pains constantly, and I feel it's doing nothing for me but making me depressed and fat. It's hard for me to get sleep at night because of my chest pains, which is weird because I haven't been doing it very long, so I guess it's just something minor. I can't eat a stinking cough drop without freaking out. With food it's either all or nothing. Even though I've only been doing it for about 6 or 7 months, I feel like I have falled so deep, and i wish I had never started. I'm not exactly sure if I have bulimia or not, but I know I'm not very healthy.
My advice for any of you reading this who is contemplating it is don't start!! Even if it's just a one time deal, don't ever try it! It isn't worth it. It barely even works, and the more you do it the more depressed, unsatisfied you become. It is absolute hell. I hope I don't continue this for decades like some people go through, I honestly couldn't do it, and I don't even know how some people live that long with bulimia. I guess some people get lucky that it doesn't kill them. Any long term bulimia survivors are an inspiration to me, I don't know how they did it.
Well that's my story, it's still in progress I guess. I hope I find a way to control it before it gets me too far. Thanks for reading!
God Bless! xoxo