Friday, July 20, 2012

TL;DR - Food Issues

Yesterday I wrote a post and have gotten very many hits on it, but as I try to comment, they are wiped out. So, while I get my blog fixed or something, I want to leave you with a background on how food, period. Yeah, I know the grammar doesn't work, but read it all and you will understand.

When I was about 5 years old, I was a cute kid. I had all the confidence in the world, was strong willed and very happy. Then, I went into kindergarten. My mother cried as I got onto the bus, but when I got home, I was the one crying. I was teased by my classmates for being fat. Fat? Yeah.

Me at five years old, being cute.
My mother, like any parent, brushed it off and probably said some nice words, and I went back to school again in a better mood and wanting to try to win over the other kid's hearts. It didn't happen, and the ridicule got worse. Every day, things got worse and worse. Yeah sure, it was just words, at first. Then it turned into physical assault, with stone throwing and sticks, literally! Punching, scratching, biting, pinching, kicking. My parents became very concerned and contacted the school, but it was brushed off as kids being kids.

So the years press on and I continue to be ostracized and ridiculed, with various bouts of physical abuse interwoven into the mental torture. If you think "torture" is a bit too harsh of a word, I would like to see you withstand days, months, years of being told you are worthless, that you should kill yourself, that you are nothing and unloved and hated, despised even. "Go away, you are a failure. You disgust me." So, I hated myself, loathed and despised my peers for rejecting me, and looked towards adults as some measure of protection, being the teacher's pet type of kid. I was diagnosed with Severe Clinical Depression at 7 years old, I believe.

Needless to say, I had already turned to food as a comfort and would binge and binge when I got home from school. I would snatch the peanut butter from the cupboard and eat it in my room, consuming it all before my parents got home so I could hide the jar. I hid candy and sweets in my room so I could eat them while I cried so I would feel better. Yes, I became overweight.

Me, age 8 I think. I was stuck in that shoe bin.
My third grade year I had the most awful teacher. Like the kids, she despised me. She would throw my things across the room, detain me after class despite possibly missing the bus, and would find fault in every action I did. Around the same time, or maybe just before, I was diagnosed with severe migraine episodes and was prescribed a pain killer. One of the saving qualities, however, were the animals the teacher had in the room.

One day I got in trouble for some ridiculous thing and she punished me by sitting me under florescent lights and made me hand copy the states and capitals while I watched the other kids play. All through that day I had complained of my head hurting. She blew me off all damn day. Between the odors of the animals, the screaming of the children, the lights, and stress, I could not see the paper because of the pain. She only let me go to the nurse when I started to sob uncontrollably. Later, when my mom came to pick me up, she could see something was wrong with me, but me being a stubborn kid, I didn't tell her anything. The very next day I woke up with a pounding migraine and two black eyes. The blood vessels around my eyes had burst from the pressure. My parents were livid to say the least.

Back at home, things went downhill fast. My parents couldn't control my eating habits and were stressed about my binging. They would buy food for the month and a week later most of it would be gone. My parents seriously thought about putting padlocks on the cupboards and the fridge. When I couldn't get food at home, I went to the neighbors and begged them for food. My parents went around the neighborhood telling people not to feed me. I took my lunch allowance and bought junk food, so my parents couldn't give me money anymore and wrote checks or deposited money into my school account. I would wrack up debt in the cafeteria buying junk, so much so that my parents forcibly told the lunch ladies not to put stuff on credit for me. After that, I would just steal money from my parents wallets and buy food that way. If my parents didn't know that, they do now.

I spiraled out of control in many areas of my life, eventually getting straight up 10s in my classes, where I had previously made 90s and above. I was super depressed with no help, an outcast with no friends, and alone most of the time. I was going through stages of starvation and binging, I guess called bulimia, by this point in an attempt to be thin. I would dream everyday that I was thin and popular and loved, I would dream so hard it hurt to wake up. At 14 years old, I woke up one day and decided to end my life, because I couldn't bear getting up anymore. I hated myself so much I could not even look in the mirror anymore, nor would I look down at my own body and had not done so in many years.

I went to school that day, thinking it would be my last day, and suddenly I was hit by a cosmic freight train. Most of you don't know this, but this was also the point in my life that I became a pagan. I can give details about this part later; all that needs to be said now is that I did not end my life that night, thank Goddess.

I did a major turn around in my life. I fought off my depression and since I had moved to a different state, I looked around and noticed that the people around me were pretty nice and was only avoiding me because I was distant and aggressive towards them (who could blame me tho?). I woke up from a fog, a deadness, a cold and distant place. I remember one instance of my music teacher telling me I should smile and me replying that I didn't know how. Another instance was my first hug by a new friend; I was so stunned I didn't know what to do.

I clawed and dug and tried to fix what was broken. Only recently have I changed my relationship with food. It's been 6 years now since I almost committed suicide. Now I eat in a way that not only pleases me mentally and taste wise, but also satisfies my bodies nutritional needs. I eat regularly, 5 to 6 small meals a day, and I exercise. I had ballooned up to 400lbs and am now trying to find my natural body weight. Now, I love myself and take care of myself. I am so much healthier now than I have ever been in my life. I am happy and outgoing and loved and accepted by my peers (mostly because I only surround myself with people who are awesome). I still have so much work to do, but you know, now I am happy just to walk around lazily until I get there.

For the first time in my life, I am ok with myself.

Me, May 2012.


  1. I was the fat outcast at my school too, but the harassment never got as bad as what you were put through. I'm glad you found a way out of the torture. My way out seems to be through Paganism also, and I see you as a good example of how well it works. Thank you for posting these blogs.

  2. The most frustrating thing as a parent was my complete helplessness in the situation. We'd complain to the school and nothing would happen. We would complain to the parents and it would only get worse. Mt. Zion, GA is hell; I hate that place. We did get that teacher fired, though. And I would have moved if we could afford it or home schooled you if I could have. You would have been better off by far.
    But, you were always loved and loved deeply.

  3. Thank you for sharing-like David, I'm glad you've found your way onto a better Path.

  4. Thank you for your awesome comments. I look back now and am amazed. I am a completely different person, and thankfully I have wonderful people around now. Like that saying goes, "Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

  5. I was the outcast, the bookworm, teased mercilessly all through grade school. The other kids would call me ugly, fat, freak, etc. I was in 6th grade when I finally got glasses. 5th grade was when I started stealing money out of my mothers purse for candy.

    My family has a very dysfunctional thing with food. My mom was overweight, and always on some diet or some such. The foods needed for growing kids weren't there. Emotionally abused by my peers, I ate and read. My mom stopped me from swiping from her purse. Later put me on Weight Watchers, saying "we" were going on a diet. People say Weight Watchers is a great program, now. I still associate it with being portion controlled and malnourished.

    By the time I hit high school, my parents were getting a divorce. Not enough to eat at home, still emotionally abused by my so-called peers, I was now also malnourished - fat, but malnourished. My lunch at school was a bag of Doritos and a Mr Pibb, and I'd go hide somewhere. I would wake up and have to eat something lest I start to black out.

    I had been told I was fat and ugly for so long that I took inside. That's what fat-shaming does. I had bigger boobs than my classmates, and that made it worse - the jealousy that the fat girl had bigger tits. If I could give them away I would.

    The only reason I didn't kill myself is that doing so would let the jerks win. But it still wasn't until I was 22, and had been a witch for 5 years, that I could look at myself in a mirror and not see and hear "ugly".

    Fat shaming and diet evangelism makes me enraged, because it's just a continuation of the psychological abuse that started when I was small.

    1. I'm sorry that I am only replying now. I am sorry that you went through this bullshit in your life, but I am happy that you are no longer in that kind of place. I fervently hope that you are in a happy, safe, loving environment at this time of your life and if you ever need to vent, feel free to email me and I respond to that very quickly. (((((((Ravan)))))))