Anonymous - The girl they used to call “wall”
I’m so honoured to be a part of Warrior Talks army.
It’s been so much time since I started having problems with food and especially with my body. I have always been the kind of girl who is tall, skinny and can wear every type of clothes. Who can eat a lot and never gains. The girl who was called 'wall' because I never had curves. But that wasn't my fault. That was just me. And I guess I have always loved food in an obsessive way. I have always eaten more than normal people and it was ok for me. But this started to be a problem when I saw that my body was changing. I saw that my eating was influencing the way I judged myself.
The scale started to be my enemy. And I couldn't stop. I weighed my self 10 times when I entered into the bathroom. I couldn't study because I got obsessed with the idea of gaining, food became something I was scared of. I lost every desire and every interest. I cried everyday and every-night. I felt ugly, huge, useless, depressed. I self-harmed for so long and nobody knew. I cut both of my legs. When summer came, I didn't go out, I didn't wear shorts, I didn't go to the sea with my best friend, I just didn't live. Nobody knew and I didn't want them to know.
During PE lessons I changed my clothes in the toilet, alone, and hearing other friends talking about weight made me more and more depressed. They didn't know what they were talking about. They didn't know it hurts. I binged so bad, I started having stomach issues, the doctor said I was ill because of too much stress. I starved, binged, starved, took laxatives, binged, did exercises, run, repeat. That was my day: starved at school, binged at lunch, cried, over exercised during the day, cried, didn't have dinner, cried and exercised again. My body was screaming but I didn't want it to talk. I hid my ed and it hurt.
I am working on myself now. I'm trying to appreciate my body, because fat is absolutely normal. Fat makes you alive. But it's hard to accept it when you are no more the skinniest friend. When you don't find a pair of jeans because they look terrible on you. When you can't do shopping because your size is bigger in comparison to years before. It's really hard. It's a fucking war that never ends. I wrote on a diary and I still do. It is so full of pain. I used to put there my blood's paper after cutting. If someone finds it, I don't know what would I do. That's my world I don't want to share.
But I am doing well just by writing this. I have so many things to say about my war against ed, but it's so difficult to explain how does it feels like. Nobody noticed I was hurting. My inside world was unknown. And I feel guilty about it because maybe talking would have helped me sooner, and it's not fair to hide a secret like that with your family and best friend.
Fuck ed. It doesn't define who you are. We needed to touch the bottom to understand the real message of ed. Now my friends are my angels and I thank them for everything they do. We share every emotion, every tear, every feeling. And I finally understand that I'm not the only one who is suffering for this.