ED - Story of mine - part#1/2

Good morning everyone :)
So now that everyone knows, that i have the weekend off and some time for myself, i had some time to think,too.
Last week i went to management school and since i am livin in Germany, we have English-class.
I am studying to become a manageress in the food industry (which I already am, but I need a degree written on paper to climb up the career-latter in large companies)
So that means we (logically) talk about A LOT of food.

 Anyhow, in my English class we got a sheet full of English food-terms to translate, just for trying,cause most of my class never heard a single vocab from them.
But because I lived overseas for a while and dated Americans, I obviously knew all of the terms and their German equivalent.
And then a girl (that ALWAYS comments on my body and my eating habits) said:"you NEVER eat, why the F*** do you know all the words?!"
That seriously made me really mad. And sad. And melancholic.
I hate it when she makes comments regarding my strange eating behaviour and that one wasnt even that bad but it made me imagine something.

Imagine, what I would say ti my whole class, to my teachers, to my boss if they EVER make nasty comments again. If they ever try to bug and nag me about it.
I mean what do they do that for?! I dont freakin comment on them eating like a pig or tell them they should probanly wear their correct dress size, which is one up and that they look like little squeezed sausages in their clothes sometimes.
So why the f do they have to be so nasty?!
Why does everyone always do that.
So dumb.

Anyhow, what I would say to make em all quiet, to shut them up and to turn their freaking nastieness and dumb comments into shock and  feeling bad abou themselves and their behaviour would be:

"ok, everyone. I behave strange when it comes to eating or food. But thats not out of the blue, thats because there is a story behind it.
I have a problem with eating properly since over a decade by now. Yes, 11 years, imagine that!
It all started when I was 8 years old,"

But explaining why it all began back then would go way to far and give you a view on me,that I dont even wanted any of my therapists to have so far.
I started going on a diet in that early age and an never-ending downward spiral began.
By the time I was 10 my weight had been unhealthily up and down for 2 years and I decided to end it.
I went on an absolute diet where I counted every single calorie and obsessively studied the nutrition info on every single piece of food we had in the house. It all got so crazy, I still know the calories of some things, that dont even get sold anymore by now.
I lost alot of weight. I always looked unhappy and looking thru family pictures u wont find a single one I am smiling at.

The beginning of purging

I started to puke too, because I had read a teenage book in which the girl does it (gossip girl,  by the way you readers) and I thought to myself:" wow that girl is pretty, everyone loves her and she eats like her friends,just without getting fat.Sounds great, I should try that"

So I did.



One eve my mom heard me do it.
Its not that my parents never thought of it, they pretty much knew.
But instead of trying to help me, my brother and my dad just made fun of it and always nagged me with nasty comments about eating like a bird.
Anyways, that evening my mom (sober for once, cause she had been an Alcoholic since I was 7).
came to me and told me, I werent going to school the next morning. Instead I would be going to a Psycho-treatment center with her the next morning.
I cried. And cried and cried.
But I knew it was right. I knew that I needed help, even though I was still a kid. And my mum assured me that we would just have a little talk with the psychic, I would NOT have to stay there.
So the next morning, we drove there.
We didnt tell my dad, nor my brother, because that was my biggest wish. I didnt want them to talk about me in that way, if you know what I mean...
The Psych was cruel. She was tough and strict and she refused to lemme go home with my mom.
They forced her to leave me there, because my weight was dangerous. It scared me to the max and I cant think of a minute, I didnt cry being at that clinic.
Well I dont wanna talk about that experience any further to be honest, because it still makes me panic.
With my ED I was the most normal patient at that treatment center ( which was for kids and teenagers) and for that, you can imagine, that sleeping in a room without a door, not having a blanket (to not strangle myself) and not being allowed to go to the bathroom alone (no matter if the "chaperone" that had to watch you was male or female!) scares you forever.
I got picked up after 2 days, when my mom found out, how awful their methods were.
I havent really talked about my expoeriences there to anyone and I wont do.
The only thing I can say is, that in the moment, I left that building, I swore to myself, I would never go in a clinic again.

Who knew that 6 years later, there were no other options anymore.

Anyways, my brother and my dad never found out about those 2 days, they thought I am staying at my grandma´s.
I lived thru a lot of ups and downs ED-wisely during the next years.
I had phases of being the strange-skinny-kid at school noone wanted to talk to, cause I always looked so sick and sad and wrote the best marks anyone could ever have, and phases of being popular because I drank and smoked by the time I was 12years old.
Somehow, I heard that smoking fastens your metabolism and I figured, since my mum was an Alcoholic and super-skinny that Alcohol is gonna make me skinny.
That was the time of "Kate-Moss-Rising" anyways, so looking like a cocaine-chic was en-vogue and I was cool. Blah.

I am the one in the middle, but the photo isnt from that time, its only 2 years ago.

Super-cool. Looking back all of that was so dumb, but "dating" older guys that dealt with weed and spent their weekends with excessive drinking to the point where you have no memory anymore, are sadly something that seems appealing to young teenage-girls.
And me, always looking for appreciation, I was weak and really easy to influence.
When I became a women, I was drunk and stoned. I dont remember much, only that I didnt want it.

And that was another turning-point of mine.

I was scared and inscure now. I felt so weak, nasty and bad. So dirty, like something you can not just brush or wash of, more like stained forever.
I knew I was over-reacting, but I started to become a loner and to focus on school and my obsessive eating habits again.

The spiral went further down, even though I thought that wasnt possbile.

thats actually my tattoo :)

By the time I turned 16, I was a total wrack and I donno how I got thru the following year, but I guess I was really lucky and god somehow protected me, even though I was probably one of the worst sheep of his.




A good month before my birthday I quit eating.
Completely.
Like I mean I went from eating a few bites a day to eating nothing.
  


During 40 days,
I drank a glass of milk (skim,obviously) every friday and drank a pint of carrot-juice everyday.
Sometimes I would "eat" herb-salt that was ment for spicing chicken-dishes if I couldnt stand my breath which was smelling like death anymore.
My breath was witness of my way down the drain.
I smelld like I was rotten from the inside, but I couldnt eat anymore.
My parents were on holidays for a week and at first, I only wanted to starve for that week, but by the time they came back, I couldnt eat anymore.
I donno if anyone of you ever experienced this, but I couldnt move anything to my mouth.
When my mum tried to feed me soup(clear broth) I cried, I kicked and hit her and my whole body was trembling until they let me fall asleep, being completely exhausted.
I am catholic and all I thought was: "If Jesus didnt eat or drink for 40days in the desert, you dont need to either. Youll be a good girl.God will be proud of you, you complete his mission."
which was by far the most stupid thing I ever thought, but my brain wasnt functioning anymore.

After having a breakdown at school and convincing the teacher not to send me to the hospital, my parents shocked me by sending me to a treatment-center.
NO!
I thought.
But this time it was different, It was only for others with ED, for Bulimics, Anorexics and Obesity.
I was not adolescent yet, so they put me in the "teenage section".
When I first got there, I remember alot of sad, big eyes starring at me. Inspect every inch of my body.
Compare theirs to mine.
I felt fat.I felt awful.
I thought that I dont belong there,
but after a few hours, we all got along real well: It was like we had known each other for ages, even though we never met before and came from all over Germany.
Thats the weird thing with all of us ED-girls.We have something in common. Something big, we share. And that made us to friends for life.
In that clinic I met girls that inspired me.
That had also come from eating an apple a day to 3 full meals and 3 snacks a day.
Something that took me 7 weeks to accomplish.
7 weeks of crying, madness and failure. Ups and downs, but probably the most memorable of my life.
I could write a whole book about the time in that clinic, but my post is already super long.
So lemme just tell you:
I got kicked out after 8 weeks.
I didnt gain enough and didnt meet my contract.
On one side that crushed me and I felt hopeless but on the other, I wanted to get home again anyways.
And I went home.
And it worked.
I actually ate 5 meals a day.
I had to eat them at certain times and I would only eat the same things everyday.Over and over and over again. But I ate. I ate REAL FOOD.
not chicken spice and skim-milk anymore.

Who knew that one thing, I decided, would end that all again?!

But that should be part#2 of my story.Because this is already too long to read, I guess.
But it feels so good to write it down. Finally.
I wish I could tell all of this my boss or someone, just so that they understand me better.
But I will never be able to, so I tell you.
Thank you.
If you read it or not.
Thank you
:)