Thursday, July 22, 2010

Story of Life, Parto Numero Dos

Okay, where was I? Did I mention how much fun I’m having writing? I’ve never really thought about writing before, it’s just something I always do. Usually in journals. About myself. With lovely prose about how much I hate myself. Oh, and did I mention how much I love you guys? Well, there it is, LOVE! Anywasies, Story of Life Parto Numero Dos:

By the end of my first semester in college, I have an excellent group of friends, the aforementioned Boyfriend, good grades, and, tada! I start restricting again. I don’t really know why. I think I was just waiting for the right time. Plus, college made me gain, oh, maybe 5 lbs. And that was NOT OKAY. So, you know what happens then (at least I’m assuming. If you want more specifics as to how I actually restrict, I’d be happy to go into more detail). By February of 2010, I’m all the way back to 87 lbs (about a 40-45 lb loss in 9 months).

Mind you, I have been open with my best friend and boyfriend about what is going on with me this whole time, but they don’t really know what to do, and I’m certainly not going to change anything. But, one day, my friend confronted me and walked me into the health center. Commence administrative Freak Out (something about liability. Idk. They’re anti-skinny). Call the parents! Pack her up! Send her home! Get her treatment! And by golly make sure she doesn’t come back until she’s good and fat!

So I fly back home and go inpatient for 2.5 months. I’m resistant, but I go along with it because I need to get treatment in order to go back to college. The Administration dictates it is so. The hospital fools make me gain a disgusting 50 lbs (yes, 50. Five Zero. FIFTY FUCKING POUNDS). When I leave I spend another month in outpatient intensive group therapy before I reach my breaking point and fly the coop. I had to at least keep an individual therapist in order to assuage the parents’ fears and so I can get back into college.

Because, lovelies, that is my ultimate goal. That is why I have been sucking the Giant Dick of Treatment for my entire life. I LOVE my college. And my friends. Not to mention The Boyfriend. I want to be free. I want to be my own person. And in order to get that, I need to pretend like I am getting treatment for my anorexia, while at the same time maintaining a double life in my mind, and now here. I don’t know why I need to do this, but I guess it’s just not my time to throw in the towel. End of story.

So what am I doing now? I’m a liminal being, unable to go back to college until Spring semester, unable to find much work because I’m only here for the next 6 months, unable to have much of a life because The Parents own my balls, unable to lose much weight because, well, The Parents and The Administration own my balls. And unable to stand myself because I am a fucking whale suffering from the obesity epidemic.

What do I want to be doing? I want to be back in school, where I belong, where I am a Psychology and Music double-major who sings in choir, is the editor of a fantastic magazine, has a thriving and hilarious group of friends and an amazing boyfriend. And I want to be skinny.

I am so glad that there are some people out there that can hear that story and not yell at me or be worried for me or give me the “Why Would You Want An Eating Disorder Don’t You Want Your Life Back?” lecture. Thank you for reading this, if you made it all the way through. You make me slightly less Crazy.



  1. I am glad this helps you keep some sanity. I would like to know how you restrict actually, because I start off well, then I crack and swing into bulimia, and I don't want that this time. I dont I dont I dont. bulimia makes me feel week. At least I am i unknown EDNOS territory now. I guess. Hmmmph.

    Which college? Or is that too confidential to put on here in case?

    Love x

  2. heyyy..please follow my blog..<3
    i am now following urs.
    you are very inspiring.

    -with lotz of love...

  3. I love your writing, You write what you feel, not what you want to feel.
    I bet you cant wait to get back to college,
    Hope you are well and safe, dont worry about therapy too much because it doesnt help unless YOU want it to help.
    Lots of love
    Star xxxxxxxxxx

  4. That is why we are here!! Join the nutter club, where we all understand so you don't have to drive yourself batty trying to explain :)

    I love the way you write! "by golly make sure she doesn’t come back until she’s good and fat!" Lol what do they think you are? A prize show pony? XD

    <3 Have a good one, my dear. Try to horde one sliver of testicle for yourself, don't let too many more people own them!

  5. I understand the bring her back when she is fat thing it's ridiculus. I was just in jr. high (9th) the last time i got put in treatment and i had to go talk to the school councilor before and some days after lunch? I was like really?

    oh and in answer to your question i has a tube for a week and tons of electo light crap i had to drink daily later...and then i got this f***ed up body i'm trying to fix. And yes i would love to hear your tips on restricting they might be nice to hear form a different person. lol

    I'm sorry your parents have the death grip on you it's like your own little slice of hell on a plate sometimes, that your expected to eat all of, but you sound super strong and like your doing great. I'm always here for you!

    stAy stroNg!
    xoxo Lyndee

  6. You're not crazy at all, darling. I completely understand wanting to hang onto the disorder; i'm the same exact way.

  7. you. are. so. funny.

    what do you plan on doing once you get back into college?

  8. :-) LOVED my comment!

    I don't smoke, actually, I have a huge diet-coke fetish, tho, always drinking the stuff.

    I prefer your image of me that the reality :-) I OWN skinny coloured jeans, mint green to be exact, but I cant wear them because I cant handle jeans until I am below 110. I cry and rip them off otherwise. I always wear tights, black or patternd or coloured, no matter what the weather, and I always wear a cardigan. Staple Lola items. Punkrose shoes, Mr Men or pink leopard print skirt and tucked in black tank top. I guess I am child-rebel, but I don't really kno what group I fit into. Quirky-kid-esque.

    LOVE x

  9. P.S.
    Lol, I'm not British :p From the colonies, dahling! New Zealand, land of the Long White Cloud and lord-of-the -sodding-rings.

    Those silly bastards fucked a lot of things up, no? The Maori had no concept of prostitution before they turned up. We'd be fine if they hadn't though introducing rabbits and possums and stoats was a good idea D: Poor NZ birdies!

    Have an awesome day <3 Go hard!