A blast from the past

Sitting there, I had shame upon my face. I was tired of being picked on all the time but I just couldn't stop eating. I enjoyed food. I loved the way it made me feel. But this feeling of self hatred was worse.
I remember the first time I decided not to eat to help me lose weight. I was 11. I was considered "overweight" and short, and not very pretty at all. If I wanted boys to look at me, if I wanted more friends, then something was going to have to change. The friends that I did have were all perfect in my eyes. Tall, skinny, and boys liked them. There was this one boy who I had a crush on. I asked him to go to the dance with me, in turn he told me he wasn't going. OK, I was fine with that. Up until he asked my best friend to the dance. That was in 5th grade.
6th grade, it all got worse. The attention that I did get, wasn't the right attention. I had boobs and most of the other girls did not. Somehow I knew that the looks were not of affection, but of lust. I was still chunky, but no longer the biggest girl in our grade. I had made a few more friends, all of them filled with joy, laughter, and skinny bodies. I remember Halloween that year. I wore a costume that had as much covering as I could possibly get, while my friends all wore cheerleader or other revealing outfits. No way, not for me.
14 years old. I slid my fingers down my throat for the first time. It was such a freeing feeling. The thought that I could eat whatever I wanted because in the end, I could just throw it up. The guy I was with didn't let me eat much anyway, because he didn't want me to become plump.
Started cutting at 15. Now between restricting and purging, I added cutting into the mixture. Being in an abusive relationship for 3 years can do some damage to you. Take away your self worth, your will to be alive, your friends and family, and any bit of self esteem you had left. Now I was this empty shell waiting for my time to come.
16; add a pregnancy and a baby into it all. A baby that I loved with all of my heart but knew that I wasn't capable of giving him the life he needed. A baby that went to a new family shortly after he was born. One less person to see me put myself through the stuff I was enduring.
At 18, another baby. But this time I was more stable. I was still in a downward spiral of my eating disorder, but I felt confident enough to raise my child. The light of my life. My reason to keep fighting.
20 years old. Married and another baby on the way. I was at my highest weight. I was taking diet pill constantly before I got pregnant. I didn't want to gain anymore weight.
After I had my youngest is when it all came flying back into my face. Restricting, lying, purging, laxatives; repeat. This has been my life. I've restricted when I could. Lied when I felt someone couldn't handle the truth. Purging every calorie that went into my body. And taking up to 15 laxatives a day. Before I went to treatment in September, I couldn't get off the floor by myself. I couldn't lift my son up to put him in his crib by myself. 84lbs was my rock bottom.
Gaining weight doesn't make you feel better. It doesn't mean you're healed from this terrible monster. Gaining weight puts you closer to a healthier life. But as long as you live with those voices in your head, as long as you give into something they have said, as long as you let this disease control you, you are not recovered. Having a healthy body and a healthy state of mind are two different things. Here I am, 10lbs up from my lowest weight, and those thoughts, voices, actions, still control my every move. Only when I can get up in the morning and truly love myself, will I be on the way to recovery. When I can look in the mirror and not see myself as fat, then I will be on my way. Until then, I have to utilize the tools I have and the support system I have and make steps everyday to get there. Much love.
XOXO Katie