Ever since a young boy, I was known for my crazy eating habits. I had an abnormally large sweet tooth and stomach. There would be days I would eat a whole bag of candy and still have a taste for more sweets. I had a fairly thin physique with some muscle tone. Everybody told me that one day, I’ll become obese and regret all these “bad” decisions; I disregarded every comment and lived by the motto, “ As long as I don’t get fat, I’m fine.”
When I turned thirteen, my annual EEG(electroencephalogram)ended with good results. They were, in fact, great results because I had outgrown my epilepsy. I was free from all restrictions. But then, my blood test showed that from the excessive use of Depakote, I was experiencing liver failure. Now, on one hand, I am basically free from the hospital and all its meds, but, on the other hand, I am now starting a relapse and needed meds for the assistance of my liver. I was then put on a sugar diet that was to increase the fatty tissue that would assist in the break down on cells that were destroying my liver, so I gained weight, and I gained weight fast. I was 14 when I realized that I was fat. I felt like all that I was doing would just build me into a fat blob that no one would want to look at or hangout with, so, I complained to my doctor. He suggested that it was just a part of the growing process and I was just to go about my day and enjoy the fact that I was gaining weight. This I did not like. I continued to complain about the fact that I was fat until I finally went on a
I became anorexic at the age of 13. I lived in an abusive home with my father whose life was consumed with alcohol and drugs, and a mom who struggled to fight her way out. I have two sisters. I was the middle child and constantly begged and searched for the approval of my dad. I never really accomplished it, but I didn’t stop trying. I had meat on my bones, but was not overweight by any means. I was 13 and weighed about 110 pounds. My sisters were naturally skinny and could eat without concern of weight gain. I loved to eat a lot, and my
My eating habits could not change. For many years, I had been neglecting my body. I would not eat enough. I never went to the doctor, but I am sure I had an eating disorder. I had many symptoms that correlated with both anorexia and bulimia nervosa. I would not eat for days. If I would ever eat, I would purge. When I finally began eating, I would eat so much that I felt like I had to purge. It all became a habit and a cycle. I would either not eat or eat too much, but in both situations, I would always heave. I always until this day tell everyone that I feel and look fat.
I over-thought myself into an eating disorder. It began in biology class where I learned that one gram of protein could provide you with the same amount of energy as one gram of carbohydrates. It continued on Quora, where hidden in between all the answers about fiction, health and psychology, I found one on dieting. It laid out the bare bones of a viable plan in which you don’t eat any carbohydrates, starches or sugars before noon. It encouraged me by proclaiming 99% of maintaining an ideal body weight is eating right. I took it a step further, reasoning I lead a mostly sedentary lifestyle and cut everything but fruits and vegetable out after 6 pm- a tip I had read from a character in a Sarah Manning book. I never thought of it as an eating
From an objective point of view, my physical health was crumbling before my eyes. From a subjective point of view in my very disordered mind, I was completely fine. I have lost to, fought against, rose up from, and recovered from an eating disorder. I was able to solve this majorly risky problem. At age sixteen my self-esteem was extremely low and my weight was at an all-time high. A doctor would say I was healthy for my age; however, my insecurities would not let me see it. The desire to lose weight was so strong I began the dark path down the road of bulimia. At age sixteen, I was aware that I had an eating disorder and it was not until two years later that I would seek treatment for it.
Mary was on her way to the grocery store when she saw Frank out in the front yard mowing his overgrown grass. He waved for her to come over because they needed to talk about the upcoming block party, but she didn't have time just now. As she got into her car, Mary said Call me tomorrow. Wait! Frank jogged over. I have to get going, Frank. We can chat tomorrow. Well, I just wanted to ask you if we should get veggie burgers, too. I thonk we should have some options for the non-carnivores.Of course. Sounds good.I have to run, but we can go over it all tomorrow on the phone.Oh, and should we get gluten-free buns, too? Uh, sure...Let's talk tomorrow. Ok? Ok. Later then. See you later
“At some point you have to recognize what world it is you belong to; what power rules it and from what source you spring. That there is a limit to the time assigned to you and if you do not use it to free yourself -- it will be gone and never return.” -- Marcus Aurelius. On May 1st, 2015, my time almost left and never returned, and my identity was fundamentally altered. I was admitted to Children’s Mercy South hospital for low heart rate (32 bpm), BMI (12.8), and a liver and kidneys inching towards failure -- all consequences of anorexia nervosa.
I don’t think I would have ever imagined me calling myself a Vegan since my two favorite foods in the past were watermelon and Steak. I could have easily pounded a 12 oz steak on the daily if I could a few months ago. Now, I can’t ever imagine myself ingesting an animal, I don’t think ever. Taking what I have learned from being Vegan and applying it to my daily life in ways i wouldn’t have thought of before has made me change my outlook on life. Before Veganism, I pictured myself in a stressful but decent way to live like going to college and getting a degree for music or even business. I still have that mindset just so much more creativity and a more positive outlook that could come with those passions of mine. I’d love to start
I decided my sanity was more important than attaining a body to the likings of a Victoria’s Secret model. My first step was to delete the app I used to track my calories each day. I forced myself to indulge in meals I would never even looked at and stopped myself from working out any more than my sports required. I taught myself to love every part of my body, even if it doesn't always fit into my skinny jeans. In just over a year I gained back all the weight I lost plus a few pounds. My outlook on life is positive and I take pride in having conquered this vicious disease. Every now and then I struggle with accepting weight gain but I refuse to let anorexia define me or even have a say in my
Four years ago, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa. I was a sophomore in high school dealing with the stress of getting good grades, what I want to do with the rest of my life, and all while trying to fit in. My mother and I had moved to a new town two years’ prior for a fresh start, and thus was without majority of my family. While growing up I was of average weight for my height and age but was constantly made fun of by my classmates and family for not being ‘skinny’. I developed these habits because I thought it would make may me happy, but it only lead to pain. I seeked help but was discouraged by what I received. I was met by family and some healthcare providers who believe that it was only about the food and not
I became obsessed with my image, and developed an eating disorder-anorexia. I starved myself, sometimes for weeks before eating. During one episode I was so malnourished that I collapsed in my room and didn’t truly wake up until a few days later. Yet I wasn’t strikingly thin. In fact, I was at a normal, healthy weight, but I still saw something in the mirror that others did not.
I looked at myself in the mirror and felt awful. Last year at this time I a small young girl weighing less than 90 pounds, and after my dumb eating habits in the spring of my 6th grade year, I had gained 30 pounds in just a short 4 months. My heart sunk a little when I stepped on the scale and the numbers 120 showed up on the grey screen showed up to greet me. I knew something had change if I wanted to like the person I saw in the mirror again, especially since I made athletics and would be with all the super skinny athletes for gym next year. Finally it was the summer and I was determined to get back in shape. I began to run everyday.
I am FAT. I know, I know … it’s what’s inside that counts, if people judge you by your looks you really don’t want those people as friends, there’s nothing wrong with not looking anorexic, there’s just more of me to love … I’ve heard it all. And I am flat-out tired of the euphemisms. In January our family went on vacation and we saw this hugely obese woman (I am 115 pounds overweight, so I tend not to comment on others’ size, but she was VERY big) and my precious little girl says, “Look Mommy, she has a big belly just like you!” After a repeat of that comment when we saw a friend who was two days away from giving birth, I could no longer tell myself that I look great for my size, that I dress well for my body type, or any other of the given comments I would make when I looked in the mirror.
When my family moved away from the place I grew up I began to have a major problem with my weight; I turned to food to comfort me. I somehow felt secure while eating and because of that psychological reassurance I got from the food, I was soon over weight. I knew I had to do something but that urgency would die when I would be introduced to a new flavor of Brewster’s ice cream or a limited time only supreme large fries that I saw advertised on the television or in a magazine. My self esteem and body-image suffered a great amount during those years of constant struggle. As I looked at pictures of celebrities, athletes, average people, friends, my sister and then myself, I noticed something, all of them were thin except me. After this and