stories

Hey guys.  This post is just me brain-vomiting and probably won't make sense, thanks for putting up with me.

First off, thanks to EVERYONE for all the love and support.  I'd go crazy without y'all.  Isobel especially, girl, you helped more than I can say.

I've been, obviously, not in the best place.  I'm doing better now, mentally anyway.  I still weigh about 98 pounds, and sorry but there's no way I'm posting a picture yet.  Maybe someday.

Guess I better tell some of my story, huh?  When I look back, I have no idea if I was always this crazy, or if it developed, or what...  you can make your own conclusions.

I was born.  From birth onwards, I was the "skinny one" in my family, and lemme tell you, my family is TINY.  I was always tiny.  Fairy-like, pixie-like, ethereal, pick me up with one hand tiny.  However, I was a healthy eater, even if I looked like a starving waif.  I vividly remember a girl in my second grade class asking me why I was so skinny if I ate so much.

[Side-note:  I LOVE food.  Like, seriously, love.  It's a messed up relationship we have, haha.]

Other memories from childhood:  8 years old, doing 500 sit ups in bed at night every night so I could have a nice stomach.
12 years old, asking my mum why thighs are always so fat and what I could do about mine (which were as tiny as the rest of me, I would presume, though I've never seen myself that way).

In middle school I was diagnosed with pretty severe anemia.  I was on all kinds of crazy meds to get my iron levels up, blood tests every week, etc.  I was supposed to eat foods rich in iron (ie, meat) but all I wanted was salad, and I was sick enough that my parents usually let me eat whatever I wanted.  I lost weight off my already small frame - I was about 5 foot and weighed about 70 pounds.  Plus, I hit puberty way later than most people, I was almost in high school before I got taller and grew hips and crap.

8th grade, a friend poking my side and telling me to eat something before I wasted away.  I still remember the happy glowing feeling that comment gave me.

By the time high school came I was about 5'2" and weighed 85-90 pounds.  Freshman year I joined track and cross country and started teaching myself about diet/nutrition and whatnot.  I quickly became obsessed with that and running.

Long story short and sparing you the details, I was eventually starving myself and puking and cutting and all that joy.  I was 5'3" and weighed 94 pounds when the doctors told me to gain some weight - they didn't know about the starving/puking/cutting, as I said, I'm naturally tiny (and good at hiding stuff).  With them and the parents and friends and people watching, I gained to 112 pounds.  It was GROSS AND UNNATURAL for me, though everyone said I looked "good."

Least favorite comment ever:  "Wow, you gained weight!  Lookin' good!"  No, I am fucking not.

Anyway.  That's it.  That's me.  I'm sure I left stuff out, but I'm exhausted just writing all that.

And basically, this is it:  I don't WANT to recover.  I want to be thin, and I don't want more meds and tests and doctors and all that crap.  I will be thin.

And when I'm thin, I'll shine.

Love and thanks,
Posie