I just answered this for another lovely tumblr-lady, whose account you can find here (http://likefeatherweight.tumblr.com/), and I was thinking that I should probably tell all of you why this started for me. I know that you might not be interested, but hey, maybe we have something in common that we can help each other through.
So my situation happened in high school. I had started my freshman year when I had just turned 13 years old and I was ready to start a new year of learning. I was always pretty avid about doing well in school and I quite enjoyed it. Things were fine for the beginning, but then I noticed that other girls were growing up faster than me. They were putting on makeup and growing more voluptuous and beautiful right before my eyes. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to be pretty, but I was a year younger so I knew that I had to wait until my growth spurt hit.
And holy shit did it hit. The summer between my freshman and sophomore years in high school, I went from being an A cup to a DDD cup and from a size 3 in pants to a size 9. My butt and boobs had exponentially grown, seemingly out of no where. I hadn’t changed my diet, nor had I stopped playing sports.
When I went back to school for the start of my sophomore year, I began to notice that people didn’t really me in the face anymore, their eyes seemed to always travel south to my (unfortunately) ample chest. People started rumors about me, saying that I had stuffed my bra, that I had gotten fat, that I dressed like a slut because it was hard to cover my chest. It was HUMILIATING. I was so young, at least a year younger than all my peers who were saying these awful things about me. But at least I could power through it.
That is, until my step father came. Him and his children moved in with us and it all went south. He was an alcoholic, self-righteous douche who thought that he was always right and that he had the power to verbally abuse us whenever he liked. I would fight and scream and yell at him to leave me alone, leave US alone, because my siblings were subject, too. I would cry to my mother begging her to let us leave, but all she would do was agree with him, and then have another sip of her damned wine.
It was something that I tried to push through, but then the medication started. My mother and step-father had some crazy idea in their head that I was “ADHD”, but I wasn’t I was just an active child. I played sports, ran around with my siblings, and was all around a happy child until all this started happening. They put me on all sorts of pills, Adderall, Ritalin, Straterra, Zoloft, you name it was on it. I begged them to stop, but every time I said I didn’t want to take the pills they would just raise my dosage.
I became this walking shell of a person. I was falling asleep in class, I stopped eating, I stopped caring. My friends would sometimes keep me at their houses for days just so I could stop taking the pills and hopefully eating something.
This went on through high school and I finally graduated. But by now, I hated myself. I hated the way I looked, I hated how big I had become, I hated how the only thing people noticed about we were my boobs and my butt. I hated EVERYTHING.
I applied to school and got into my first choice college, even though I started not caring school was still something I was passionate about. In my freshman year of college I started purging and I dropped 27 pounds and went from being 140 to 113. I was so proud, but it still wasn’t enough. I still hated myself.
Sophomore year I dropped another 3 pounds. It would have been more if people hadn’t started to notice and my binging addiction hadn’t gotten out of hand.
Now into my junior year, I am going more towards starving rather than purging. I have mini binges where I eat a bagel and I feel the need to vomit again. I can’t, and won’t, let myself get back into the habits that I once had when I ate MASSIVE amount of food and then would tear my throat trying to get it all out.
I still hate myself and I still hate my mother/stepfather for doing this to me.
I’ve tried to hard to forgive, but how can I forgive them when I can’t forgive myself?
