My Painful Stories [part two]

In My Painful Stories [part one] I began with a list of things I have been in my life.

 

In part one I wrote about being a depressed teenager. I also wrote about being a cutter.

 

Neither of those topics is easy to write about. And the next topic follows suit.

 

It started sometime in eighth grade. I was kind of an awkward kid, with limbs that didn't want to cooperate most of the time and big glasses- the same ones I'd been wearing since I was nine years old. But I did have one thing going for me...

 

I was thin.

 

Now, when I say thin, I mean it. I was the eighth grader who was still wearing little girls jeans because I hadn't yet grown into the junior sized jeans like most of the girls my age. Think twig-like and you'll have a good idea of just how thin I was.

 

Anyways. I was an eighth grader who was clearly in the "Girl Box". The "Girl Box" isn't a term I would have used back then. Honestly, it's a term I learned only a few months ago while I was coaching Girls on Track at the school I work at. But it's a very fitting term and describes where I was perfectly.

 

The "Girl Box" is the place where a lot of young girls go when they are beginning to change into the person the think they should be instead of becoming who they really are. The "Girl Box" is different for every young girl. Some girls think they should be thin, others think they should be nice, and some think they should be popular. It all depends on the girl and what they believe will make them happy.

 

Well, I was a mixture. I thought I should be stick-thin, wearing contacts and popular. The popular thing wasn't happening for me at that point. And my parents wouldn't let me get contacts until I was 14.

 

So I focused on being thin.

Because I honestly considered myself fat.

 

 

I was already thin. And ridiculously so. But I didn't believe it and it was the only thing I could work on, so Depressed, Cutter Christine quickly became Depressed, Cutter, Anorexic Christine. It really wasn't all that hard to do.

 

Most mornings I was running late for school because I had to wait to send my brother and sister off to school before I could leave. And I didn't like to wake up when the alarm rang. Or when my mom hollered at me from down the hall. It just wasn't my thing.

 

 

So by the time I was dressed and ready for school (hair fixed, make-up done, outfit carefully selected) I didn't have time to eat because I was sending the siblings out the door and heading out myself. Skipping breakfast was no big deal for me. I really wasn't hungry in the mornings anyways, right?

 

Then came lunch. I had a really big group of friends my eighth grade year. And we all gathered around our tables on the outskirts of the lunch area because that was where all the "uncool" kids sat. I wasn't one of the popular kids, remember?

 

To be fair here, I absolutely loved my friends. They were a wonderful group of people and we all had a fabulous time together. We had been friends since middle school and were practically inseparable.

 

Anyways. I had a bad habit of "forgetting" my lunch or "losing" my money. Most of the time they didn't force the issue. Sometimes they'd buy me lunch and I'd pick at it until they left me alone. And it was understandable that they didn't really worry so much. As far as they knew I'd eaten breakfast that morning. And as far as they knew I was headed home to have a snack as soon as school let out.

 

Yeah, that snack rarely ever actually made it into my system. My mom wasn't home by the time I got home from school and I had to take care of my siblings. So, again, it was easy to "forget" to eat a snack. No big deal. I could live without it, right?

 

My mom was really big on family dinners for a long time. And I usually couldn't get away with eating nothing at dinner time. It wasn't allowed. But I did get really good at pushing my food around on my plate and making it look like I had eaten most of my meal. I rarely ate more than ten bites, though. I just wasn't hungry. I'd eaten a big lunch at school that day, or had a huge snack when I got home. Or I didn't like it.

 

Life went on.

 

Honestly, it went pretty much the same my entire freshman year of high school. I had broken up with my eighth grade boyfriend at the beginning of the school year and had a huge fight with my best friend, so I was basically kicked out of my circle. It was fine by me. I went and made new friends.

 

Oh, and I got contacts.

Oh, and my new friends were more popular.

 

*insert victory cry here*

 

Even though I basically had everything I had ever wanted, I still spent a lot of time focusing on my appearance, most specifically my weight. I started my freshman year weighing less than 100 pounds and standing at 5'4" tall. That's not healthy.

 

And had I kept hanging with the same group of friends, I probably wouldn't have gotten away with my repeat of eighth grade.

 

But I had a new boyfriend who hadn't known me the previous year. And I had a new group of friends who hadn't known me the previous year.

 

It couldn't have been any easier for me.

 

So I started all over.

Wake up, skip breakfast because I'm late for school.

Go to lunch, "Oh no, I forgot my lunch/lost my money..."

Go home, care for younger siblings, no time to eat!

Dinner time, shuffle food around and take a bite here and there.

End day.

 

That was my day. Every day. For the entirety of freshman year.

 

A lot like eighth grade, right?

 

Sophomore year had the potential to be exactly the same. Again, the break up with the boyfriend from the previous year. The falling out with the group of friends from freshman year.

 

I was primed and ready for a new school year. I had a new boyfriend (the Ex Husband, actually) and I quickly made new friends. And I weighed 100 pounds. It was going to be a great year! An exact repeat of my habits from the two years before. No big deal.

 

Yeah, that's what Depressed, Cutter, Anorexic Christine thought, too.

She was very wrong.

 

First off, the new boyfriend paid very close attention to me. He noticed if I lost weight. He noticed if my shirt didn't fit the same as it did the last time I wore it or if my size 0 jeans weren't staying up without a belt.

 

Second, my friends paid attention to my eating habits. They noticed when I didn't have a lunch. And they always shoved a couple dollars in my hands and dragged me off to the closest lunch line. They didn't care if I didn't want pizza or if I didn't want a salad. They bought it and sat with me a watched me eat.

 

I still managed to get away without eating breakfast, snack and dinner for a long time, though.

 

Until I became good friends with the TA in my first period class and happened to mention to him a few days running that I hadn't eaten breakfast. He took matters into his own hands after that and started bringing me a bagel every morning. And, like my friends, he would watch me eat it from across the classroom.

 

So sophomore year wasn't as "successful" as the previous two years had been. But that was a good thing. Because my friends helped me to realize just how unhealthy I had become. I watched them eat everyday and they still stayed just as thin. So why did I have to starve myself to stay thin? Especially when I was just as physically active, if not more, than they were because of dance?

 

Complete eye-opener.

 

I still wanted to be thin, I just had to learn the right way to be thin. And they taught me that it wasn't by starving myself. Slowly I began eating again. It wasn't easy because my stomach was so small and I was often full after just a few bites, but I took my time and gradually worked up. I'm not sure my portions were anywhere close to normal sized portions until my Junior year, but I made progress. By the end of sophomore year I weighed 102 pounds and I had a new outlook on my appearance and a lot more self-esteem.