|My Story- My Struggle|
This is for you to put on your site. It's about me...
My name is Laurie. I live in Florida. I'm a Junior in high school. I want to help.
I'm 16. This is my story...
I remember most of my childhood being FAT. Yes, the dreaded "F" word that teachers let you say in school. Most of my life I was tormented by other kids. I think I've heard all of the fat jokes. It got to the point that I was scared to go to school. The kids were really mean. They actually HATED me because I was fat. I even had a counselor at my after-school YMCA program make an example of me. She told some other kids that she used to be as big as me. It really hurt me too. Someone who was there to watch over me and make sure I was okay wanted to hurt me in front of other children. I hated my weight. I hated shopping for clothes too. Every time I went clothes shopping my size would get bigger. I finally got to a size 14 at age 11. I was 155 pounds and it was my last year in elementary school.
I really don't know what happened from there. Some how I got the strength to lose the weight. I did sit-ups and ate healthier. I went from a size 14 to a size 11 in one summer. I was so proud of myself. It was my first year in Junior High School. I kept doing sit-ups and eating what I thought was healthy. I remember one day my mom and I went shopping again and I was a size 9. That was only a few months after school started. That only made me happier.
By the time Christmas rolled around my parents made me stop my sit-ups since they thought "I had lost enough weight." That upset me more than anything. I remember locking myself in my bathroom and doing my sit-ups in there. I realized it was useless to sneak around so I stopped the exercise. After that, I ate less. Only Fat-Free and extremely Low-Fat foods. I remember at one time I actually cried because I was so hungry. Eventually, my hunger went away. I didn't have a "taste" for food anymore. I got used to not eating. By the time Christmas was over I was a size 5.
My parents always made me weigh myself when we went to the stores. I hated going shopping because it was like a routine checkup in which if I lost weight I'd get in trouble. My parents wanted me to go to a therapist but I wouldn't. I didn't want help. I wanted to be thin. By the end of the school year I was a size 3. Then after a week of a 4-H summer camp that I wanted to go on I came back as a size 0. I remember eventually dropping to a size 00. I still can't believe they carried that small of a size in the Junior department.
At the beginning of my 7th grade year I was called in to the nurses office. Someone in my school asked the nurse to weigh me. I still don't know who. She asked me how I was losing weight. I told her I was eating healthy and exercising. She said I was 97 pounds. That was the last time I weighed myself until years later [which I'll talk about soon]. After that I still continued my normal [at least for me] eating habits. My mom and dad still pressed me for counseling so I finally did. It didn't help. I was relieved that we got a bad therapist. She told my parents I wasn't anorexic. She said, however, that I may have OCD [obsessive compulsive disorder], and went on to blame my parents for my problems and also said that she really couldn't do anything else for me because besides my OCD everything was fine [she couldn't prescribe medicine for some reason]. So we left her.
I was happy to be done with that and kept losing weight. I didn't think I'd have to go to another one but finally did. We went to a whole new place not affiliated with my previous therapist. She was really nice. We talked and she tried to help. She even tried to get me to slowly start eating. I still wouldn't. Not even a salad! I also had to meet with a psychiatrist. She was the only one who could prescribe me with medicine and diagnose me with whatever I had. She told my parents I was definitely anorexic and that the anorexia was brought on by my OCD. I remember hating my doctor because of that. I couldn't believe she was trying to say I was anorexic. I didn't think I was.
She made me take tests at a hospital to check how I had been affected [I'm guessing] by my anorexia. I guess she wanted to prove to me something was wrong since I was too stubborn to realize it myself. After we got the test results I found out this: my heart beat was too slow, I had developed hypothermia from not enough fat in my body [which explained to me why I needed a sweater even in the midst of summer], and my liver had deformities in it from mal-nutrition. That's when it hit me that I could probably be dead in a few months if I kept going on.
It's a miracle that I wanted to get better. I never did before. I got to really like my psychiatrist after a while because I knew she wasn't against me...she was for me...she wanted me to get better. And I kept seeing my therapist too... I loved seeing her...she helped a lot. I was prescribed many pills before I found a combination that would work for me and was on different combos of pills for years. I even fully recovered.
However, this year has started something. I am now 16 [17 in a couple of months] and a Junior in high school. This past summer I weighed myself after my boyfriend asked me to [he wanted me to get over my fear of scales I guess] and something snapped in me. I've been dieting again. I eat one low fat meal a day and only fat-free snacks besides that. I do sit-ups too again. I've lost a lot of weight in the last 2 months. My parents are worried it's going to happen again. I even make myself throw up if I eat too much [I've only done it a few times though]. I just did it tonight. I felt like I had too much fat in my Christmas dinner. And it bothers me that I didn't get to throw it all up [I waited until I could be alone to do it]. And I won't take my pills anymore. I want to lose weight again. The scary part is that when I think about losing more weight and being maybe a size 3 again....it doesn't scare me. I'm finding that things are happening now like they did when I was 11-13. I'm confused and alone...but I'm too stubborn and strong-willed to stop. I want to keep losing weight but I don't want to die. I can't stop again...I'm lost again...