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My Experiences With Eating Disorders, Bullying & Abuse.
Author Name: daisylee3
Date: 06/06/11, updated on 06/06/11 (82 review reads)
Disadvantages: Anorexia Kills.
Hi, I'm sure most of you will recognise me by now, but for those who are reading this who haven't seen my previous reviews/dooyoo profile, my name's Daisy and i'm 19 years old.
This is a story of how my eating disorder developed. It's a gradual review and isn't solely focused on anorexia, as i've also struggled with binge eating and compulsive eating.
As a child i was very overweight, which started to noticeably pile on at the age of 7/8, and at 10 years old was around the 12 stone mark, which is around 182 pounds and is classed as obese for a child of 5'1; an average man who's 6 foot plus weighs around 12 stone, so for a 10 year old girl carrying that amount of weight around you're able to imagine how large i was. This may shock some, but i actually wasn't badly bullied back then. I grew up in a street where every one knew eachother and i had good friends who would stick up for me if anyone did say anything, and my parents were still together then and were both very protective, with my dad having a bit of a reputation, so to be honest i think no one actually dared make a comment about my weight!
I think the main reason i was overweight was simply eating too much. I was encouraged to try new foods, clean my plate and to be full at all times. That's how my mum was, and still is, always making sure i'm not hungry or wanting anything because she's the fussy-mumsy type. I don't blame her for my weight. She didn't shove the food down my neck, and i was a brat at times; demanding chocolate, sweets and takeaways, demands which ofcourse she would fulfill because she hated seeing me upset. I think i did it for the sake of it; the fact i knew she'd buy me stuff - i took advantage.
I wasn't the average fat child who sits on the computer all day and expects food to be brought to them infront of the telly; I exercised every day as we didn't own a car, so every day was filled with walks to school, long walks down the local canal and sometimes a long walk into town, which was atleast 8 miles from our home, and i don't remember ever been in discomfort and i honestly think i was pretty fit for a fat kid!
I never remember been in discomfort about my weight and i was never really bothered about my appearence. I'd stick on a t shirt and jeans and run down the local field to play football with my friends; i was simply an innocent kid without a care in the world.
At 10 and a half a range of traumatic experiences happened. First my mum and dad split up after 13 years together, and then my grandad on my mums side died of cancer. My mum made the enormous and very hard desision to move 200 miles away to be there for my grandma, and by the time i was 10 and a half we had our own home and were somewhat settled in the new area.
I cried everyday for around a year without fail, begging for us to go back to our old house. It was painful, i won't lie. Friendships had been ripped apart and talking on the phone to old friends simply wasn't enough. It was traumatic and i missed everything i'd ever known. The new house was nicer, posher, quiter, the people were snobbier and had big cars and big tv's in there front rooms. I didn't understand this whole new place, but i tried my hardest to fit in and made 4/5 good friends in the primary school. I was teased mericlessly at the new school. "Fatty bum bum, does your dad work at mcdonalds?", taunts would be shouted across the playground with teachers too busy engaged in there own gossip to really care. It was nothing serious, and i still wasn't too bothered about my weight.
Then it was time to start secondary school. By then i was around 10 stone as i'd lost weight due to a small increase in my appetite because of the stress of missing home, even after all the time that had passed. I can't remember alot of my secondary school days. It's numb and blacked out with only speckles of memory dotted around like a puzzle. My first day, i got smartly dressed, and posed proudly for a photo with my best friend from primary. Mum looked so proud, the happiest she'd looked in years. She waved us off and me and my best friend started the journey walking to our big new school. A few steps down the road and some girls are behind us. "Have you ever seen an elephant in school uniform?" one laughed loudly to the other. I went numb and knew they were talking about me. Suddenly i cared. i don't know what it was, but suddenly i wanted to rip the fat off me and be normal, skinny like them. I was numb throughout the first day, avoiding eye contact and only speaking when spoken to. A few other comments were made that day, some too painful to be repeated. I felt well and truly humiliated.
I was fat. I could change that. I knew it'd take time, so i made the most of what i did have. The second day of school i straightened my hair and put on my mums makeup subtle enough to get away with it. No luck, i was branded the school's 'dog in makeup.'
From then on i cut back. I wouldn't eat meals properly and would avoid chocolate, ice cream and would instead nibble on fruit if there was a watchful eye. Lie upon lie of "Oh, i ate at so-and-so's house, i'm not hungry" unfolded, with my lies becoming hard to keep track of. Within just a few months i'd lost alot of weight, around 2 stone. My mum was worried but never said a thing, only wishful encoraging comments such as, "i made you a lovely cake, will you eat a bit for me?" etc etc. I'd say this is when my eating disorder truly started. I certianly wasn't anorexic, but i definetly had distorted eating habits as well as the mental traits of an anorexic; the obsessive portions, the lies, the self hate..
Aswell as losing weight, i'd been doing alot of things to fit in, such as smoking, sex, shop lifting and generally bad things that even when i was doing them, didn't feel comfortable doing.
By my second year of high school i fell pregnant. I told the father, who was 16, and he told the entire school. I was soon been bullied badly again, and started showing signs of agraphobia. I had a miscarriage at around 14 weeks into the pregnancy, at which stage my mum found out after finding me in my room in agony only to discover at the hospital that i had indeed lost the baby she knew nothing about.
She pretended nothing had happened. I think it was her way of coping; denial. Back at school, i was branded a sick liar, and i had apparently faked the whole 'been pregnant' thing to get attention. Ofcourse this was a horrible, disgusting rumour, but i had no strength to fight it and instead let them do and say whatever they wanted. A group of girls in my year took a particular liking to following me home, pushing me into the local canal or kicking and hitting me. A group of boys also decided to join in, with the final straw been when i was hit in the face with a brick.
After that i stayed at home. My mum got me a place in a new school but i refused to go. I was scared, depressed and by this time couldn't even take a step out of the front door. The truant officers were merciless, and would be ringing or in the house every day pressurising my mum to get me to school or else she'd go to prison.
Then the abuse at home started. Every morning i'd be dragged outside into the garden in my pyjamas, my school uniform slung out and the door locked. My mum would go off to work and not be back until 7-8pm. I think she thought i'd give in, get dressed and go about my day as if nothing ever happened. I wanted to, but i couldn't. This went on for 3/4 months, 1 meal a day, locked out in the pouring rain and my mum screaming abuse and threatening me whenever i was allowed in the house. She told me several times she was going to kill me etc, and the stress of this caused me to stop eating pretty much completely, with just 1 small meal i had to prepare myself. My mum was given tablets to help her with her depression/stress and she was given tranquelisers to help her sleep through the stress of possibly going to prison.
Social workers soon stepped in and i was provided with a home tutor. My mum got better within a few months and my confidence was soon growing, and i gradually was able to go out and about again. This process took 3 years. Throughout this time my mum would get takeaways and chocolate on the way home from work, either as rewards for me doing something that was challenging, such as getting the bus or walking the dogs. Looking back she was trying to make things better with food but i didn't realise at the time. I soon was back up to 12/13 stone and mantained this all the way up to the age of 16 through my new compulsive binge eating regime.
At 16 something snapped and i didn't want to be like this anymore; fat, alone and depressed, and started looking online at websites that promoted starving. I was hooked and gradually decreased my calories and watched the weight fall off. Ofcourse it was hard; i was fighting cravings, impulses and desperatly wanted to stuff myself full, and found the only way to stop my self from doing so was to cut myself to distract myself, which is a whole different story so i won't go into it.
At first i wanted to healthily get down to 9 stone, which i accomplished in 8 months after eating a small but reasonable 1,000 calories a day. By time i'd got to 9 stone, my goal weight was down to 7 stone, which took me a long time to reach so i upped my game and reduced my calories to 600, with 2 hrs of dog walking each day. The weight dropped off and i soon couldn't care less about food. It was useless, a product to make us fat and greedy - i didn't need it. My mum bought me food still, thinking i was eating it and exercising more. Infact, i was actually chewing it up and spitting it out into the toilet, which stopped after a while as i became scared that i'd still absorb the calories. I also refused to brush my teeth, wear lipgloss or chew chewing gum as i was terrified there was calories in them.
At 17 i began seeing a councellor at a local child and family unit about my bad experiences during school, and she soon picked up my eating disorder. It took a while but i was diagnosed as EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified) with anorexic tendancies, and was made to undergo tests and weigh ins. My mum was told and to be honest she didnd't seem at all suprised. Perhaps i wasn't as convincing as i thought i was.
This new found exposure simply encouraged me to carry on; if they thought i was skinny, i'd get even skinnier and show them just how skinny i could really get. No more 600 calories. Food intake for the day would be the same, day after day. 1 pear, chopped into small dices, 1 apple, chopped into fine chips and half a tin of tuna. That'd be a good day, and there'd often be left overs.
In late 2008 something scary happened. I was laid down, watching tv when i became dizzy and the room turned a funny grey colour, and that's the last thing i remember. I woke up in hospital on a heart monitor and drip and was soon informed by a worried looking nurse that i had fallen into a diabetic coma after my blood sugar went below 2.1 and i was now in-patient (sectioned with my mum and gp's permission). I didn't care, the fact the iv attatched to me was putting something inside of me scared me even more than the fact i'd fallen into a diabetic coma, and i kept wrapping my arm around it to stop the flow. They soon picked up on this and changed the iv so that it would beep if the flow became interuppted. A few hours passed and 2 nurses appeard with a bag of cream, custard like liquid, explaining to me that it was my feed. I screamed, cried and fought with all my effort to stop them connecting the bag to my tube, but i was so weak i couldn't stop them.
I was in-patient for 4 months. I refused to eat and drink and was regulary force fed, including vile fortisips; a meal replacement drink that contains 300 calories and has the consitency of glue. Each day my stats were checked, and was regulary placed on obseravation due to low blood pressure.
Been in patient is horrible. You're watched 24/7. While you're eating, while you're sleeping, you're even followed in to the toilet to make sure there's no purging or flushing of food.
I forced myself to gain weight by the third month and was aloud home with a strict 2500 calorie diet to follow.
The diet was designed to make me gain 2kg per week.
I have no idea how i followed it but somehow did, perhaps sheer determination to get better and prove everyone who'd ever calld me names wrong, and with support from friends and family, and i am yet to relapse, although i have come very close. I also still have regular contact with support workers, phychiatrists etc which is a big pressure as i know if i do relapse i'll be straight back into the ip unit. I don't eat 2500 calories now, and currently struggle to manage my goal of 1200 a day, but the thought of relapsing back to 600 or less calories scares me. I've improved alot, and am now at uni and have a job, and i no longer self harm. Food is still not a pleasureable experience for me and scares me at times, but the main reason i wrote this is incase any girls, boys, women or men are on the internet right now looking for anorexia tips. I want them to see this and realise it is not a fashionable fad that will turn you into a gorgeous stick thin model. It will turn you into a lifeless calorie obsessed skeleton with serious health implications.
I am so proud of my self for overcoming my issues with food and other things and i'm the happiest i've been in ages. The thought of weight gain is still scary, but i don't let it rule my life. Not any more.
I hope my story helped someone who's been through similar experiences as me.
Summary: My Personal Experience.
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