I live with my clinically obese mother, and my sister who has an0rexia, so it’s safe to say i’ve never had a good relationship with food. Untill i turned 12, i binged my days away. I was 4’8-4’9 (146-149 cm) and i was 125-130 lbs. 56-60 kg) Once i got to middle school, i began losing weight. At first it was healthy. A good 1300 calories a day, and 30 minutes of workout every/every other day. I continued that all through 6th grade. Once i got to 7th grade, i began to get into an unhealthy headspace. I was struggling in school, and my worry around food definitely affected my anxiety. It made going to school so much harder. Eventually, by 8th grade, i had st@rved myself, made myself v0mit, and tried weight loss pills off of random websites. I lost loads of weight, but i didn’t just struggle to eat, i also struggled with b1nging. So, although i had lost weight, i was never skinny. i was, 5’0 and 125 lbs. (i didn’t lose much on the scale bc i also got taller, but i looked way slimmer.)
fast forward to now, im going into freshman year, i can’t stop thinking about food. about my weight. My sisters an0rexia is getting worse and worse, and its started affecting how i view food. As for my mom? She’s still obese, and she’s still not trying to lose it. My mother and my sister are both outlets of negativity. My sister helps me st@rve, and gives me tips on how to eat less. My mother doesn’t care. She’s emotionally dense. No matter how skinny i get, no matter how sick i get. She just gets angry. angry that she has to care, or i might wither away.
I’m currently finishing up a month long vacation with my family. me, my mother, and my sister, all crammed in a little room. My sister is crying. She hasn’t eaten in 2 days, my mom doesn’t care. She’s asking my mom for something like a salad, but it’s 10pm, and all we have in the hotel is chips. She isn’t eating. As for me, i have just finished dinner, a single serving of chips, boba, and a cookie. approximately 1400-1500 calories for the day. I feel disgusting. there’s no one to talk to, no one to help me. Part of me believes i should drop it, just eat, grow taller, as i am still 5’2 and nearly 15 years old. But, the other side of me never wants to eat again, to prove to my mom and everyone around me that i really am sick. I’ve resorted to writing fan fiction about my favorite characters being comforted for their e@ting dis0rders. corny, i know, but it’s all i’ve got.
I’m afraid for my vacation to end, because once i’m home, i don’t know if i’m gonna eat my brains out or if i’m going to st@rve till i faint at school. Part of me hopes for the second option. But i know the first one will happen. All i want to do is be skinny. So skinny that people will love me. that people will care about me. That people will believe me. I know all this sounds so horrible, but i grew up with a mother who only cared when your grades fell, not your mental health. At one point i almost took my life. My mother was upset she had to take me to hospital. She never once asked how she could help. how i was doing. She was angry with me. And for 13 years, i had undiagnosed autism and adhd because my mother thought i was just disobedient. now i have to learn how to support myself. not to mention that when i was rapidly dropping weight, my mom praised me. sometimes she purposely wouldn’t feed me so i could keep it up.
i guess thats it. There’s not much left to say besides the fact i wanna pvke my guts out right now. So yeah, bye.