Usually when life spirals out of control, you try and look for that last thing you can control. Mine was my weight.
My parents fought and separated during summer, I with my mom and my brother with my dad.
Without them in the house, there was barely any junk food, no one to bother me and lots of space to exercise. So I started exercising. Then dieting.
It made me feel pretty great, you know?
Slowly but surely, I'd look at myself in the mirror and see the same old chubby me, but I'd put on this pair of white skinny jeans that were tight and they'd hang off my legs and ass. A pair of loose skinny jeans? You'd think I was all "Whoa, weight loss! Great job." but I was more "New pants, more weight loss."
I went to parties that summer. Dancing and drinking. I'd get hung over. I hated being hung over so I came up with a solution. Purge before going to bed. It was only for when I was out to parties or drinking or both. Then it became for times when I ate out, when I couldn't control the portions they gave or stop myself from finishing my food. Then for when I was at home. Exercise. Diet. My bones began to poke out. I looked awesome.
I was brushing my teeth one day then I started to floss. I flossed my front bottom teeth and small bits came off with the floss. I freaked. What would happen when I went to the dentist? Would he notice? Worse, would he tell? I stopped purging. But started starving. Purging doesn't really trim you down anyway. I starved. I lost a pound a day on average. Everyone told me how thin I looked. I said thank you.
School started again and I stopped losing weight. I still diet, I run track. My mom says I'm building muscle mass. My parents got back together. Whenever I binge, I take it into my bathroom, chew it up then spit it out. Still better than throwing it up, right?
I'm still fighting. I just don't know what for. I want you to be strong. Don't care about what other people think of you, it only matters what you think of you.