Scars are Sexy: Part Three

I went to bed that night and reflected upon what had just transpired. I started to wonder if I was making my family feel the same way. I started to feel badly thinking about my parents being upset because they couldn’t do anything. I wondered if my brother or sisters worried about me or worried about my parents worrying about me so much. I still wasn’t 100% convinced that I had a real problem, but I knew I had to start making some changes for my family’s sake. I also kept trying to tell myself that my friends were just making shit up and that their stories were just a hoax to try and scare me into thinking my problem was bigger than it actually was. Oddly enough that Christmas break one of my brother’s friends came to the house to visit. She was home on her break as well and wanted to catch up. My parents asked how her first semester of college had gone and what she said in response sent chills down my spine. She said her classes had gone well, but unfortunately she had a lot of issues with her roommate. Apparently her roommate had nearly died due to complications of anorexia, which eventually led her to having to withdraw from the school. When she said her roommate’s name it turned out it was my friend’s sister…not only did she exist, but his “story” was not a hoax after all.

When I returned to school for the spring semester of my sophomore year I was fortunate to land a spot with some upperclassmen in an on campus apartment. This gave me a little more freedom in making my own food because 1) I had more space for groceries and 2) I had my own kitchen and could make food when I wanted to, I didn’t have to wait or share with an entire dorm floor. I still ran like the cops were always chasing me, but was eating more and my body started to look a little less like a stick figure and a little more like the athletic build that was normal for me.

My junior year I turned 21 and was up to 125 pounds, well because ALCOHOL (this is why I shake my head at these chics who bitch about their weight and count how many pieces of lettuce are in their salad because they are so afraid of putting on the pounds, but then they go and drink like a fish! Sorry ladies, nothing packs on the poundage like alcohol!). I looked much healthier but still struggled daily with the battle of “If I ran X miles, then I can eat Y and/or Z today.” My senior year I met my ex fiancée and after dating for a while my weight creeped closer to 130 pounds. I guess I stopped worrying about my weight because I didn’t feel the need to have to impress some guy (not that that should even be what it’s about, but that was how this entire situation arose in the first place).

When I graduated college I had trouble getting into the graduate program I wanted to (we will save that story for another time) so I moved home and I took up a job that unfortunately left me exhausted and with little time to work out. I was still dating my ex fiancée who now lived a solid two hours away. We would alternate turns on who drove to whom to see each other on weekends. He was never really big on working out so needless to say even on my weekends it was tough to try and get a workout in as he would lay the guilt trip on me that I’d rather go for a run than spend time with him.

#melissa #personal #eatingdisorder #ED #scarsaresexy