A lot can happen in a persons life - some bad, hopefully most good...
I've learned to be pretty open about my past; writing blog posts, making videos and being vocal when people ask. But there is still just one thing that I find the hardest to talk about.
My eating disorder.
When thinking of the word 'eating disorder', your mind would instantly think 'I'm fat'. But for me, it was more because of my depression. I would stop eating as a way of torturing myself because I genuinely believed it was what I deserved. I was miserable at best and not eating would make me feel worse (which strangely is why I carried on).
I have touched a little bit in posts before about my struggles, but I finally present you (a condensed version of) my biggest weakness.
If we were to go back to my first thoughts of feeling fat, you'd be hitting way back to year 5 (when I was 9). Granted, it wasn't to do with my body - it was to do with my face. You'd think a child wouldn't think twice about their weight or the shape of their face, but I did... I really did.
I was the ugliest girl I knew. Everyone was beautiful. They were cute and everyone loved them. For me? I was the blonde with eyebrows thicker than Charlie Simpson and a face rounder than a football - I was pretty miserable.
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| Btw - big eyebrows are now in so fuck ya'll |
Phases would come and go, and as you do, you grow into your body; however, my face remained to be something that kept me miserable. I would go through phases from year 9-11 where I would go for weeks without eating during the day... Almost like a test to see if I could lose the weight in my face. I would go home and google 'how to get a skinny face', I would search facial exercises in hoping that I would be lucky enough to have a perfect face shape like everyone else.
When entering college, I started to become comfortable with myself; the shape of my face wasn't something I would think about as much, and my love for food was at an all time high. Fair enough, I would look at a picture or two of myself, see how round my face looked and feel sad, but then I found a way to deal with it.
Have you ever heard of making yourself look like a thumb? Yeah... That was me.
The only way I could stop myself feeling fat would be to purposely make myself look fat in pictures and it actually did work (except now I'm left with tonnes of god awful pictures of myself on the internet).
Unfortunately, when my depression made its grand appearance a few months before my 21st, my weight took the biggest hit of all. I couldn't eat. The thought of eating terrified me. I felt like if I would let myself eat, then it would be a way of treating my body... Something I never felt I deserved.
I went for a long time without eating a proper meal and on the few occasions I did - it didn't feel right. I can't even begin to explain to you how I felt... It just wasn't right. This is where I would disappear to the toilet - to make things right.
In a short space of time I fell down to a size 2, I went from a C cup to an AA cup. It would feel like the water was crushing me when I had a bath. I was very weak, and it was at that point that I realised I was the biggest knob going.
It took a little while to start eating properly again.. I made sure I ate little and often and before I knew it, I was back to eating normal meals a day.
I would be lying if I said I'm 100% better, because I'm not. I still have my downfalls, and I still have the fleeting thoughts I had when I was 9 years old. But what I am happy about is that despite being a size 4, I weigh the most I ever have. I have thighs. I have fat ankles. I have boobs - YOU HEAR THAT! I HAVE BOOBS AGAIN!!
But what is the best of all, if/when chosen... I will be the right weight to donate bone marrow.
Out of everything I have ever spoken about, this is the hardest. It has been something I have toyed with writing up for MONTHS but have never pressed the 'publish' button. I have spent hours writing this post, only just to delete it.
My biggest fear with writing this post is that people will know my biggest secret - one that very few people know. It is a fear that people will think I'm crazy (I'm not) and be put off by someone who is potentially a little 'hard work'. We all know that with mental health comes struggles and sometimes a little perseverance.
'In closing', I've seen a lot of people say how they would love to express themselves in a blog post (whether it be their biggest secret, saddest moment or hardest story to tell). If any of you are reading this, my message to you is DO IT GURRRRL! If I can write about this... You can write about that.
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