Current mood:blahI don't like to talk about it, but I used to be anorexic. I was anorexic for almost two years and it started in middle school, beginning in the seventh grade, after my brother, Victor passed away. I was a chubby child and was occassionally harrassed by bullies, boys and girls. I went to a christian elementary school, Norwalk Christian School and it didn't matter. Even though my parents paid for me to go to a nice school, there were mean little brats there just like every-where else . There was this little boy who always used to get in my face and call me "fat momma". I even remember his name - Adam (what an irony). He would sort of chant this to me often and I don't even think it phased me since my self-esteem was high and I wasn't body-concious at that young age (about seven). I think I was even insulted by my first best friend (I met her in Kindergarden). She was sitting next to me, staring at my gut and straight out asked me if I was pregnant HA! Anyways... I think sixth grade was the peak of my harrassment (thank God). I remember these girls, who lived in the neighborhood and took the same bus as me to school, made a big fuss over my big booty when I got off the buss. The bitchy one (Candy) kept saying to her friend Amanda out loud for everyone to hear "My God, she's got a fat ass! Isn't that the fattest ass you've ever seen?". I was hurt, but suprisingly not too embarrassed. Finally I was hurt one day very badly by a thin accaintance, Jennifer, from the neighborhood who saw me in a bathing suit (one that showed my tummy). It was this funny light-pink one-piece with white polka-dots that looked like a two-piece, but was connected on each side. Jennifer and I went to the coommunity pool. The next day she told my friend, Misty, that I had a big gut with rolls in it, at the bus stop. Well, Misty told me and I felt totally humiliated and heartbroken. I vowed then and there that I was going on a strict diet. I told my dad this ( that I wanted to lose weight ) and he told me "No more cookies, chips, cake, or ice-cream" ( as a motivational speech ). Well, I think my biggest problem was that I didn't get enough physical activity and I used to hide in the pantry and stuff my face with potatoe chips ( one time my dad caught me - it was embarrassing ).
One day out of the blue, my dad recieved a call from the camp my little brother, Victor went to with a church function (like boy scouts) saying that there wa an accident and he was being flown by helicopter EIGHT hours from the San Bernadino mountains to Loma Linda Hospital. We went to the hospital and waited for hours, waiting for Victor to recover ( he was just nine ). He was connected to a life-supporting machine. I heard the doctors tell my parents that he would be a "vegetable", only survivng by being connected to a machine. The doctor asked if they wanted him to be that way, or to have the machines turned off. My heart sank when I heard them say to turn them off. I held his hand when I saw him for the first time in the hospital, not knowing he was actually gone ( it didn't quite hit me yet because I didn't want to accept that ). His hand was so cold and his eyes were shut with a tear drop in the corner of his eye. I sobbed a little, but when we left the hospital, the youth pastor had to tell me ( because my parents couldn't ) that my brother was dead. I burst into the biggest fit of grief imaginable.
I was never the same after my brother's death. The doctors said that from the autopsy they found that Victor was born with a weak brain stem and since a basketball hit him on the head, it " broke " his brain stem, and he "hemmorraged " at the base of his brain stem. In layman's terms, he bled to death in his brain (?). I shut down emotionally. I went from this happy, joyful, heavy girl to a quiet, withdrawn, and depressed anorexic. Starving myself became my way of coping with the pain. I would count calories every day, and only allow myself to eat seven-hundred calories a day. I wrote the calories of each day on my calendar. I wouldn't eat dinner, and for breakfast I'd only have a small serving of fresh melons, so by the time lunch rolled around, I had the worst pain in my gut. I literally felt the acid knawing away at my stomach. I " indulged " at lunchtime, buying a greasy, fatty chimichanga and a Peach Tea Snapple ( if they had Diet, I woul have bought it). It was either a chimichanga, or a pizza Hot Pocket. I would never drink milk, not even fat-free ( my mom bought 2% and I needed the calcium at that critical stage of development). I was expending a lot of energy too, because I was in soccer and track. When I came home, all I could do was pass out on my bed and fall asleep, but I stayed on top of most of my homework asignments, even if it meant getting up super early in the morning to finish it, or pull an all-nighter ( which I did do once ). No one said anything to me except " oh you lost a lot of weight ". No one acted concerned - not even my parents. Except my Algebra instructor, Mrs. Domingo. If it wasn't for her, I may not be here today, because I never thought I was skinny enough, even though I dropped down to eighty-eight pounds at my lowest point. She told my mom that I looked anorexic and my mom told me. I was so embarrassed that I was " caught ". I immediately stopped, because NO ONE EVER called me that! I started to eat normally again, and gained weight quite rapidly ( I also wasn't in soccer or track anymore at that time, either ). I will never be that way ever again. I like myself just how I am! So before any of you EVER want to insult anyone because of their weight, think of this story!