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I was a really happy child. I loved life and never stopped laughing... until I started high school.
When I was 14, I constantly got told that I should be happy with my body because everything looked so good on me and it would be this way for a long time so I should treasure it while I had it. I didn't quite understand what that meant. I mean I did have some insecurities but when going through puberty and seeing everyone around you developing, who wouldn't have even some insecurities? I was a late bloomer, I didn't get my period until I was nearly 15, and my body wasn't developing like all of my friends.
My mom was raising me by herself and she worked a lot so she wasn't around often but when she was around, I would hear a lot of bashing towards herself. Red flag number one, I was already questioning my body and now I had to hear my mom constantly talk about how fat and "overweight" she was every time she looked at herself in the mirror.
I was 14 when I started to restrict. I was constantly questioning what everyone else saw when they looked at me. It led to intense mirror gazing and skipping meals. I was 14 and showing eating disorder behaviors. Red flag number two, yes I was showing the behaviors but that doesn't mean I was taken seriously. Having an eating disorder at 14 sounds unreal, right? It almost sounds like a joke and impossible because what would a 14-year-old know about restriction and counting calories?
By the time was 16-years-old, I was having intense binging episodes and active on a social media community that circled around eating disorders. I learned tips to better my restriction days and counting calories down to the exact cup measurements for everything I was eating. At only 16-years-old, my lowest weight was 98 pounds and everyone around me noticed but nothing was done. My mom got told a lot that I was well underweight and I even got asked by the doctor if I had an eating disorder. Of course my first instinct was to lie because I wanted to keep going. I wanted to keep losing weight. I loved the feeling I got knowing I was in control. I was letting (buli)Mia run my entire life and I didn't care.
A few of my closest friends found out. I never ate lunch with them and I was constantly sick. I looked dead almost. I was always tired and wearing oversized clothing to hide my body. Oversized sweaters were really my thing in high school. My friends were practically begging me to eat and my doctor was getting me to drink Ensure (a gross protein shake that helped people gain weight who really needed it). I was now at this point where I was lying to everyone about eating breakfast before school and eating lunch while I was at school. I would eat once a day and binge on anything I could find in the middle of the night.
I was killing myself—slowly, but I was doing it. I would get a cold for months, get well for a month or two, and then get sick all over again. I guess the reason no one really took my eating disorder that seriously is because I was thin. I looked "good" to everyone. I had people telling me that they wished they had my body. I thought these people were crazy because if they knew what I was doing to myself they would be horrified. Disgusted even. I say disgusted because one day after eating lunch at school, I ran to fourth period and dropped my backpack in the classroom before running right to the bathroom to throw up everything I had just eaten. I waited for the last minute to eat my lunch because I knew I was going to regret eating. The voice in my head was calling me weak for putting the food into my mouth. So for the first time, in a bathroom at my high school, I put my fingers to the back of my throat and I made myself throw up. It was gross and I hated everything about it but it got the job done. I did it again, only once after the first time, a week after graduation. I was anxious about where my life was going to go while I started community college and I binged. I binged on a box of snack cakes and a box of honey buns. I felt sick to my stomach knowing I had lost control so I did it again. I threw up.
I don't want this to be a sad story all the way through. I don't want to say that I'm living through the same habits now because I'm not.
I'm 21 now. I'm at an age that I never thought I would make it to. I have a boyfriend who saw me end up in the hospital for trying to kill myself. I started a YouTube to share my story and help people who are struggling with what I went through and continue to go through. I found a love for makeup that is leading me to go to beauty college in May. I started taking singing classes and have performed on stage in front of over 75 people which is something I never thought I would be doing. I'm 21 and I'm in recovery for (buli)Mia. The one who tried to break me. The one who tried to kill me. The one who told me I wasn't enough. I'm kicking her ass now. I'm living my best life.
This is the beginning.