Insanity Descent

Eating Struggles

I've... struggled with eating ever since I was 6 or 7, honestly. At first it was involuntarily.

My mom didn't teach us how to cook and wouldn't leave us with any food so we'd go entire days just starving while she was at work. When she got back she'd maybe give us a pizza or two for us three to fight over and she'd have a pizza or two for herself. Sometimes we got a sandwich and fries from some fast food restaurant or another that she felt like going to that day. And that'd be all we get to eat for the whole day.

I remember one time I was wearing this half shirt with nothing underneath so my stomach was exposed to the open air. Since I was just at home I didn't really care, and I remember my mom looked at my stomach and started telling me it was unfair and unnatural how skinny I was and that she was jealous. She said that I should always be able to clearly see all my ribs and if I didn't then I was getting fat 'like she was.'

At the time I basically had no idea what she was even talking about because I didn't try to be skinny, I actually ate everything I could. My siblings were also chubbier than me and they ate just as much as I did, if not less. I didn't get it.

Now I know I just happened to be given genes that make me really really skinny no matter what I eat, but that doesn't mean I can't get skinnier or fatter. My weight is about 86-86.5 pounds, which in the USA for my height is at least 30-40 pounds underweight. That's me not even trying to be skinny.

Well...

For being so underweight and skinny I've gotten quite a lot of people telling me they wish they were just as skinny as me. At first I hated it and I wanted to be fat so people would stop telling me they were jealous, but eventually I just started feeling guilty about that. All these people kept telling me I was so lucky and I just wanted to throw it all away? What was wrong with me for wanting to throw away this 'gift' that everyone seems so envious of?

I remember even my family would tell me I was so skinny. My dad, mom, step mom, brother, and sister all at one point or another commented about the fact I was so skinny and underweight. I still remember the time my mentality about wanting to be fat was changing and I actually wanted to stay skinny and I told my step mom I wanted to gain weight. She was really supportive of me gaining weight to be more 'normal' even though it was just my genes making me so skinny...

In eighth grade I started marching band, which is intense exercise. There's lots of running involved for starters. There's also lots of marching, which may look or sound easy but remember we're marching really fast on a football field, moving across it like it's nothing WHILE playing an instrument at the exact same time {or moving a six feet tall flag that I can't even hardly lift, color guard how do you do it}. That triggered a lot of positive things for me, but it also triggered something really negative.

At first it was just me trying to actually conserve food because we're poor and marching band required a high calorie diet that we simply can't support with our income. Then it turned into a sorta diet before it just got out of control and next thing I knew I was dealing with anorexia that never went diagnosed. It got to the point each day of the week had different calorie limits just so I'd barely have the energy to get things done.

Marching band practice was on Tuesday and Thursday nights until 6 PM so my calorie limit was highest those days. Wednesday went until 5 PM so it was a little lower. We had football games most Fridays so that was a little lower. Sunday was chore day so I was allowed I think 100 or 200 calories just so I wouldn't collapse while doing chores, because Saturday was fasting day unless I had a competition, where I think the limit was maybe 400 or something. I don't quite remember exactly, but I remember it was brutal.

I also remember doing some exercise outside of marching band to burn even more calories, even if it was as simple as walking. I especially loved to make myself do things on Saturdays and I remember one Saturday in particular I went on an hour long walk. Because my step mom begged me to eat and threatened to take me to the hospital and put me on a feeding tube if I didn't eat I had a single raspberry. I didn't eat on Sunday out of guilt.

I eventually sorta... grew out of that weird anorexia crash as magically as it appeared but every now and again, even if it's as short as a day or as long as a couple months I have crashes where I fall into anorexic-like behavior to varying degrees. Sometimes it's mild like refusing little foods or just being aware of how many calories I'm eating even if I don't do much about it or sometimes I'm scrutinizing over every tiny thing I eat and constantly checking my body to make sure I'm not getting fatter.

They just randomly appear and disappear like fad diets and they never last long enough to be given an anorexia diagnosis. Usually they have literally no trigger and I just randomly get all weight conscious but this time it has a trigger...

Somebody in the comments section of one of my books said they were 56 pounds. It was probably a joke but even knowing I'm probably just blowing someone's joke wayyy out of proportion I still can't help but feel insecure. I can't help but want to be only 56 pounds because then 86 feels way too heavy and I start to feel like I'm way too fat. Then I remember those who starved down to 30 or 40 pounds and I feel even worse about myself.

Why do I even care so much about how much I weigh? Why does it matter so much to me? I remember at TRL when they wanted to give me anti-psych meds one of my biggest concerns was weight gain and I almost refused to take my meds just out of fear of weight gain. It wasn't mostly out of fear of losing my 'sharp thinking' though that was part of it, but actually my weight. It doesn't help I know somebody who was diagnosed with bipolar, given meds, and now she's stuck being obese for life no matter how healthy she gets.

I've never brought up my weight problems with a whole lot of people because they've just always... been in the background. With bipolar disorder driving me through loops and then throwing me in the dust, weight and body image issues are really easy to throw aside as not really being important. Sometimes I wonder if I should bring it up if I see my therapist after quarantine ends but then I wonder if I'll be sent to some nasty facility again so they can monitor my eating. Fuck that. I'd rather struggle for life than see another facility.

Any other ways for me to get better...?

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