To be honest, not many people in my close group of friends know about my problem. Funny how I'm more open to the internet than my own friends.
I was always an average sized kid. Not fat, definitely not skinny. And I was happy with it. I ate a bag of chips (or two) a day. I ate cake and cookies when it was available (my mom never kept that kind of food in the house). Vegetables to me were just something to keep my doctor happy. I swam competitively and kept my weight at a normal range. I laughed at all the "stupid conformist girls" going on diets and looking at my beautiful sandwich with longing in their eyes.
Ironically, I became one of those girls. Only more.
Come 13 years of age, and my body decided to grow up. Monthly gifts from Mother Nature left me dead on my bed, moaning and cursing my luck at being a girl. These gifts also warranted a stop in my streak of swimming due to my inability to use "female products". Losing my favourite sport and only source of physical activity, I began eating much more than I probably should have. I gained 10-12 pounds in the course of one school year.
And I lost it all in around 1 month. I just stopped eating "junk" and began running everyday. The weight melted off like butter. And it continued to until I lost about 30 pounds in 3 months. Long story short, my new bff was anorexia.
Fast forward 6 months of that same year. I started therapy unwillingly and was gaining weight again. My therapists, bluntly put, were horrible. They were mainly social workers, and I connected better with my dietitian than with them. We had many confrontational meetings about certain behaviours that they deemed "disordered" which I knew were simply habitual. After one particular altercation, I came home in tears.
"Why are you crying?" Mom asked in the car.
"My bitch-of-a-therapist thinks she knows me sooo well! What a freaking idiot! Who does she think she is? Why the hell does she even give a single damn about my life?!" I wailed.
"Well, you know what they say about therapists...why they love to pry in to your buisness I mean." Mom stifled a laugh.
"....BWAHAHAHAHAH!!" Mom began to laugh like there was no tomorrow.
"THE RAPIST!! HAHAHAHA!!" Mom was in tears. She nearly hit the curb in front of our home.
"What? You don't get it? Therapist...The Rapist."
"It's not that...you're just so dorky, you began to laugh before you even told your joke about my therapist". I said with a smile. We laughed together for the first time in a long time.
Now at 17 years old, I still struggle with old habits and disordered ways. I have gained weight but need to gain about 5-10 pounds more. However, I don't see my rapist anymore. She wasn't good at her job at all. No, she has been replaced by my loving mother.
Created: Jun 18, 2012chocochip826 Document Media