Story of Life, Parto Numero Uno

Okay, I just wanted to say how absolutely thrilled I am to hear that some people (at least I think we’re all people…) out there in the big bad world somewhere like to read my humble noob blog!! It makes me do cyberdance like this !!

I also realized that an explanation of some of who I am and what I do (not much) would allow me to make a touch more sense. Not that I usually make sense, but that is beside le pointe. So *ahem* here follows Parto Numero Uno of the story of my life with anorexia.

I have always been tall and thin. I have always been complemented for it. (Please don't hate me.) And so, when I began that mortifying ascent into puberty, I realized that I might not stay thin forever (I couldn’t really do anything about the tall). And I realized that that was NOT OKAY. Imprint on brain since childhood: I must be thin. Rah.

I first started restricting when I was 13, 5’7” and a pre-teen 100 lbs. It didn’t take me but 6 months of restriction while running varsity cross-country, making straight A’s, playing in orchestra, blah blah blah, to lose to 87 lbs. My parents freaked, the doctors sighed sadly, my heart rate was critically low, and I was locked in a hospital with a tube down my nose for two weeks. Then followed 5 months of inpatient eating disorder treatment (read: CRAZY HOSPITAL where you talk in stupid groups all day and get fat). Well that wasn’t seeming to work. In fact it led me to an official diagnosis of General Depression, on top of my rosy Anorexia Nervosa. No duh, folks! Being locked up with crazy people makes you depressed!

So then I was sent to a Residential Treatment Center in Utah for a year. ONE YEAR. More crazy people, more group therapy, more food, more control. (It did have horses though. Awesome!) I eventually figured out that being sad and stubborn wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I decided to get through the program. I was their pride and joy, their shining star, their model patient. I don’t know if I wanted to get better, whether I really made that decision, I just wanted out.

So I go home. Wheee! First time at home in almost 2 years! I go to my last 2 years of high school, do excellently, see bloody therapists and those god damned peppy nutritionists (grrrrrrr hate nutritionists), keep my weight to its bare minimum for ease of parental concern, and get into a fabulous college. Finally, FINALLY, I am free. I can be my own person.

Okay, this is getting waaaaaaay too long, so imma take a breather. Check back for Parto Numero Dos: Relapseville and Treatment Fellatio!!

Love ya skinny bitches,

xoRoseox