Cried in my fifth hour. That says it all. I never cry. Anyone who knows me well knows that if I'm crying it's because something is so seriously wrong. Well now it's not really one thing, it's just everything. I'm crashing.
It's funny, cuz I read Brian's thing about two seconds ago, and when I looked in the mirror this morning I decided I was going to something about body image or anorexia.
Seriously, when I was in the seventh grade, I would commonly go two or three days without eating anything more than gum and celery. I'd tell my mom I hate at Rushell/Lonika/Anne/Alissah/Tom/Whoever's house because I wasn't getting home until 7 or 8 at which point they'd already eaten.
Freshman year, I skipped more meals then I ate, at least... After everything with Mark I did. I was doing fine at the begining of my freshman year. Then... everything and I wasn't. I never ate breakfast or lunch. Ever. I couldn't hold down most food that I did eat for a couple months. God... The whole week of the trial I ate two meals that I couldn't keep down. When I found out I didn't have to testify my grandmother took me out to lunch at Olive Garden, my all time favorite restaurant, and I only ate half of my meal and had to run to the bathroom and upchuck the rest. I took it home though and tried to eat it again for dinner, and it didn't stay. I gave up for a few days after that and would munch on a very little bit of potato or something.
This took a toll on my body.
My whole body is covered with this thin fuzzy hair that I shave once a week, and my rips stick out no matter how much I weigh and I gain weight in weird places now (like the sides of my back are where all my fat is), my spine is a series of knobs that make me look like an alien and I don't know if my baby fat in my face is ever going away because of this. I can't keep up a normal diet, I don't know if the anorexia or my ridiculously fast metabolism is the reason. (Seriously, when I mean ridiculous, I mean ridiculous. I had to take weight GAIN pills until I was ten to slow it down so I could grow right, and I was technically supposed to be in a booster seat until the end of the sixth grade because I didn't weigh 90 lbs.)
My hair used to fall out ten times more than a normal person. It would come out in clumps when I was at my worst, like a cancer patient. I cut my hair really short to make it less noticable.
Once or twice I passed out. Fortunately, because I was usually in my room and both times were at home, everyone just thought I was sleeping so I didn't have to go to the hospital.
I still remembered what I saw in the mirror: this really awkward and tall looking thing with fat thighs and a stomach that was huge and I didn't even get the big boobs to go with it. My hair was too blond and my eyes were too big and my lips were always chapped and I was too pale and hair was stringy and people were always looked at me wondering how I could stand to look at myself in the mirror, silently begging me to go inside and out of their line of vision.
I don't understand how I thought this now. Looking back I was beautiful. I had these big hazel eyes that were usually brown and I was tall and thin and my hair was long and shiny and I never got split ends, I was bony but it looked okay on me, I was healthy looking until sometime in the middle of the sixth grade when I decided I wasn't pretty.
I only just started to look healthy again towards the end of last year weight wise, and skin-tone wise I'm only just now starting to not look like I'm sickly white. (Thank you sun!)
It's taken me forever to recover from three years of mistreating my body.
And I'm still not there yet.
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