|Old habits are hard to break.
||[Nov. 21st, 2003|01:40 am]
|||||Oasis- Don't Look Back In Anger||]|
I don't know what made me do it, but I decided to weigh myself today. Bad move. I have struggled with eating disorder after eating disorder is the past- well, ten years to be honest.
I remember going on my first diet in the third grade. I'd allow myself one small snack per day and a meal.
Well, as puberty pushed its way into my sight, things changed. I had suddenly grown enormous boobs, huge hips, and a bubble butt. Curves and booty aside, I hate my body. Around the age of thirteen, entering middle school, is when I got really bad. My seventh grade year was an awful, blurry hell. Most of the people I had grown up with, always went to grade school with, decided to become Abercrombie-ed out and stick their noses in the air. Sure, I still had a few trusty, old friends, but the new people around me were very intimidating. I just wanted to fit in.
My new regiment was one meal a day. Of course, at first, I allowed myself to eat whatever I pleased. I'd stuff myself until I felt ill; merely because I knew it was all I could have for the day. Most of us know how the 'shrinking' of our stomaches occur. So, I'd eat so much one day, less the next day, until the hunger no longer phased me. I still found myself repulsive, and by this time I was about 115 pounds. I then decided it was time for sever action to be taken. This is when the one meal every other day plan when into affect. I'd been starving myself for months, so of course, it didn't phase me much. Soon, I was so impressed with myself and convinced that I didn't need food, that I'd fast for days; simply to see how long I could go without eating. First, I'd really been happy with six calorie-free, food free days, but it wasn't enough. My personal record to this day was ten days without food or anything containing a single calorie. This is when things got pretty rough. Ex Lax came into play, and things got out of control. I would have not eaten for a few days, but still somehow felt guilty; felt that I had done something bad, didn't look 'good enough' yet. I'd pop a few Ex Lax or any other laxative I could get ahold of, and when they kicked in and the job was done, I felt accomplished. Did I ever gag myself? Well, it was a rare thing for myself, seeing as I had a very difficult time making myself vomit. I went as far as sticking a wooden spoon down my throat to get the job done. I only puked when I was feeling guilty and Ex Lax wasn't around.
The never ending fights with my mom were the roughest part of it all. She'd try to force food down my throat, we'd fight. She'd tell me I had to eat before she'd allow me to leave the house, we'd fight and I would always leave anyways. Blacking out in class wasn't fun either. All I remember of that was my teacher grabbing my shoulders and asking me if I was alright and telling me I looked extremely pale. She proceeded to send me to the office to go home, when I fell down the stairs. Unfortunately, I do remember that part. Still have the scar on my elbow. Mom took me to the doctor that day. She took me to the doctor a lot. I recall my stomache growling every time I'd sit on that damn table. It made me feel like a horrible pig. Anyhow, that particular day at the doctor, I knew things had to change. I found out my weight. I was 5'4 and 98 pounds. Rehabilitation was threatened and I knew things had to change. I went from a size 11 in jeans to a size 1 slim. So, that is my life story from ages 13 through 15.
I am 18 years old today and still struggling with weight/appearance issues. I'm currently in a size 9 jeans (Sorry, I'm not saying my weight), and my self image is far from what I see in the mirror today. I have made myself a doctor appointment for tomorrow (well, today, I guess; seeing as it's late). I am going to see a 'pill doctor', and plan on obtaining some rapid weight loss medication(s). No, I am not 50+ pounds overweight, or whatever the set number is for these drugs. I will never be a healthy person. I am currently fighting kidney problems because of my past abuse on my body. Is it stopping me from going to see the doctor tomorrow? No, of course not. I will never be free of this disease; and, yes, this is a disease. I just figure popping a few pills a day is better than starving again.