The school day is over and loosening up watching Netflix. My mom is rummaging around through the cabinet packing lunches for my siblings and I. Then she asks a simple question.
“What was on your sandwich during lunch today?” She wants to know what I had today so she knows what to pack for tomorrow. I have to make something up, but what if I’m wrong. I might as well fess up. After all, I wouldn’t come close to the answer. I didn’t even open the bag she packed.
“If I check your book bag right now will I find your lunch?” I’ve been caught again. She knows what’s happening.
“Hun I’m not going to be mad, please tell the truth.” Too ashamed to speak, I nod my head. I know what I’ve been doing is wrong, but disorders cloud your judgment causing poor decision making.…show more content… No daughter wants their mom to know that they’ve been skipping meals since seventh grade. No mom wants to know that their baby girl is starving herself because she feels she isn’t deserving of food. I t’s always been a fight with myself. If I just lose one more pound I’ll look prettier, but soon one pound isn’t enough. Next is ten, then it’s twenty, and finally it’s deciding how many pounds I can lose without dying. It’s a never ending spiral of going over the boundaries you’ve made for yourself. Recovery hasn’t been easy, and it will always be this way. These tendencies are something I created because I thought they were right. Now, I have to relearn everything I thought I already knew. Luckily, I’m being taught the right way. I’m being taught that being me, is really OK after