In comes junior year like a lion. Troubles pile on top of an already messy
situation. Mom and I moved four hours
away to join dad and make it work.
Beginning a new school brought struggles and hardships. The school was very small; yet full of new
faces I needed to impress. The one thing
I had going for me was that multiple cousins attended the same school and could
bring friends my way.
The great relationship going back in Indiana broke due to
distance. A little piece of my heart
remained in Indiana; therefore, I refused to find contentment in Kentucky. That famous smile that disguised all pain
came with me and remained throughout.
Each day I arrived at school, went through the motions and sought
approval from all I met. Now, I not only
had my eating disorder to please, but also every other person encountered in
life.
I did make the basketball team (mainly due to such a small
turnout for the team). My eating
disorder loved the increase in exercise and continued deprivation of
foods. Along the way, another vice
entered the scene – smoking cigarettes.
This was a great additive to an already unhealthy situation (typed with
complete sarcasm). Smoking did help with
avoiding food. It pacified my desires to
eat and provided a social group to join.
Avoiding food at this point was pretty easy. Not many kids ate lunch anyway (have you seen
school lunches). By the time I arrived
home from school, with both parents working, I could grab a few crackers and be
on my way. Supper did not really occur
because family meals went to the wayside with just one kid left in the
house. Things just did not seem ‘family
like’ anymore.
Toward the end of junior year, I rarely spent time at
home. On the weekends, I was out until
wee hours of the morning if I even came home.
Friends pay no attention to the little amount eaten. And I always ‘ate before I met up with my
friends’. I followed the crowd and kept
trying to survive.
Sometimes you watch an individual continue to choose
wrongly, destroy their life and they fail to see the damage. You may not know how to help. You may want to turn your head and avoid the
painful situation all together. You may
love the person so much that you work hard to deny the destruction taking
place. So, you watch from afar, bury it
and avoid it. It becomes the pink
elephant in the living room that no one wants to discuss.
I believe others saw the frail frame I struggled to carry
around; yet, did not know how to approach that conversation. I know for a fact people back home
noticed. I received comments, letters
and words of concern numerous times.
Sadly, these only fed my eating disorder. I loved the attention and hoped that one of
these days, someone could come in and erase all the pain inside so I could eat
again. See, I had no idea how to manage
my emotions, deal with pain or handle sorrow.
My eating disorder knew. Others only
saw sickness, not pain. They assumed I
just wanted to look like the girls in the magazines. They assumed this was the reason for such
extreme measures. This was not the case
at all.
It was to feel good about something. See, athletes gauge success on points scored
in a game. My eating disorder gauged
success on calories avoided within a day.
Businesses pride on numbers increasing.
My eating disorder felt pride as the number on the scale decreased
(which by this point, I checked that number countless times every day). I was finally good at something and that
something helped avoid feeling. I hated
to feel any emotion. I had a way to numb
as the storm raged around me. All was
well. . .or so my eating disorder thought.
Keep praying harder than the devil can work.
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