PrettyThin

October 5, 2011 - by PrettyThin Member Lyndie

When I think about my life, it reminds me of that one song by Katy Perry, Hot and Cold or whatever its called. I grew up in a perfectly stable family: I live with both of my parents and they love each other every much, I have two little brothers, we never had major money problems, I was the happiest little girl you'd ever meet, I always made good grades... You'd think a girl like that would be perfect, right?
Well, I've always had OCD. It makes me feel like no one likes me, that no one could ever like me. I remember being in kidnergarten and picking flowers for my pet rabbit instead of playing with the other kids. I must admit, even on PT, I feel distant from everyone. It also made me a huge perfectionist-If I can't be the best at something, I don't see the point in doing it. Along with that, I wasn't a picky eater amoung a family of them. I had a "healthy" appetite. Which means I ate a lot. My parents were dieting a lot, and that could have had some affect on me.

When I was about eight, my brother's best friend moved to India. It doesn't have much affect on the story now, but remember it, it'll come in handy later.

When I was in fifth grade, meaning I was about 10 or 11, I feel into a deep depression that still gnaws at me from the inside out. I don't know why it came up. I know that its in my family's genes, but I don't know what triggered it. The only thing I can think of is maybe its because there was a guy I liked, and he didn't like me back. But I don't see how this could cause anything major-I'm not a weak person, and I don't fall apart over boys.

I gained a lot of weight over puberty, which is normal for a girl. I didn't like how my body was changing all that much. It felt weird having boobs and I thought bras were uncomfortable. I hated how Mom and Dad always told me that I stunk. I hated how I started growing hair everywhere. I wanted my old body back, but I never told anyone. In sixth grade, people always told me how pretty and thin I was, and that I should model. I saw myself as fat, I didn't believe them. I wanted to loose weight, but I never started. I remember one Christmas looking in the mirror and thinking that I was a fat, disgusting pig and that I needed to diet. In seventh grade, I hit rock bottom as far as depression goes. I wanted to kill myself, and started making active plans. I was planning on doing it the following week, by waiting until my parents were in bed asleep, and then slitting my throat. I never went through with those plans. I never told anyone about my suicidal thoughts. It isn't in my nature to ask people for help, even in dire situations.

That summer, I gained a lot of weight. People stopped telling me how pretty and thin I was. That winter, I grew facinated with eating disorders, especially Anorexia. I wanted to know how the inside of their minds worked. I looked up videos about it on YouTube, read through some Pro-Ana sites. "Real" pro-ana, with tips and stuff. I didn't pay attention to trigger warnings, I had the mindset that it would never happen to me. But look where that got me.

In late December of that year, (The 28th-it's in my diary,) I decided not to eat. Yes, I decided to become anorexic. In my mind, there is nothing worse than getting fat. That didn't stick long-Mom found out and made me feel so guilty about it that I started eating again. that This Spring, my brother's friend, Ethen, came back. He had been living in Cairo while the revolutions were going on. It took him and his mom, Shannon, months to get out. Shannon sent Ethen over while she finished off the school year so she'd get paid.

At first, having someone else there wasn't to bad. Ethen was pleasent, for a few hours. As soon as my brother, Billy, came, they started being mean. That night, Mom took us to church for Wednesday night Youth Group. I was walking around by myself, and Billy and Ethen started calling me fat, and a looser, and were throwing rocks at me.

Shannon came back, along with their little dog, Jake. Shannon refuses to accept that I do things differently than she does, and won't listen to me when I ask her to do things, yet she thinks she has the right to boss me around and complain when I don't listen. She makes a mess out of the bathroom, and my OCD mind can't take it-NOTHING WAS IN ORDER. NOTHING. If I left something of mine somewhere, she'd move it. Her dog isn't any better, he'd pee and poop around the house and Shannon wouldn't punish him. All of the order and control I cocooned myself in. Mom and Dad were stressed. I decided that they didn't need any more pressure on them, and I faked recovery from my depression. Bad move for me, good move for Mom and Dad. They had one more thing to check off of their list of concerns.

I decided to diet that summer, so I'd be thin for high school. Summer passed by in a blur of dieting, failing, and crash dieting. Repeat. Repeat again, and again, and again. Something in me snapped, and I realized that the diet I got the most success out of was my crash dieting. I started doing that all the time. I felt that when my tummy was empty, I did better in everything-I got better grades and people liked me more. So, no more food for Lyndie.