To read this blog in order start at July right at the top of the blog archive and progress down in order. This is an account of my battle with anorexia and bulimia

Tuesday 19 July 2011

year 4- 1986

Grade 4, 1986.

Anorexic was not a commonly used word then. I never did understand it, and I never thought I could have it. Now I still don’t understand it, and it has me.
This was the year I first came to know the word “anorexic”. My older sister, Mim, had started high school this year and became best friends with a girl named Lydia. Lydia had a sister who was the same age as me, but went to a different school. I was really excited to meet this girl, because I always wanted a real best friend. I read a lot of Trixie Beldon books then and liked the thought of a friend you did everything with. I was hoping Chloe could be this person. Mim informed me that Chloe’s family think she is anorexic. I had no idea what this word meant. What I understood was that it meant not eating, and exercising a lot. I noticed nothing unusual about Chloe, so I just couldn’t figure out the anorexic thing. So, it just did not bother me. Although I did not wish to be skinny like her, I did want to be like her in the way that she was likeable and popular. In fact, I wished to be any one but myself sometimes. I was always different from the other girls. It’s hard to explain why. I often thought it was to do with the fact that I never had a father while growing up so people viewed me as different. Then sometimes I thought it had to do with the fact that my mum was German and she talked differently and did things differently. One thing that was noticeably different was my early onset of puberty. I had to be one of the earliest developers in my class. Mum often tried to make me feel better by telling me that because I developed breasts earlier it meant mine would not be as big as the other girls later in life. Little did she know that what she said was true, because the first part of losing weight was from my breasts.
Whatever it was that made me different I did not like and so wished to be someone else. I now realise that it is pointless trying to be a person you are not, because then it delays finding out who you really are and it takes years to mend. What I know now and wished I knew then is that God creates us all differently but with a purpose. He knew us before we were born which means so much to me, yet I still find the concept hard to grasp. To know we were created with a purpose means we are meant to be here. I grew up often wondering if I am meant to exist. Mum sometimes told me how she often thought of aborting me because after our father’s death (when she was two months pregnant with me) she didn’t know if she could cope raising two children on her own. By saying this I felt I had no place on this earth.

linking with things i can't say for pour your heart out and twinkle in the eye for flash blog friday and You know it happens at your house too for TGIF and with some grace for flog ya blog friday


  1. At that age, I think almost everyone wants to be someone else.

  2. You absolutely have a place on this earth. I can understand your mum would have been grieving and frightened and she was not casting judgement on you at the time, as she didn't know you. Life is a series of choices, choose to recognise your worth every day!

  3. That's a hard age to deal with differences and identity. Sorry to hear about the sorrow you went through. I hope you realise your self worth now.

  4. stopping through from the TGIF Blog Hop (late I know! =) ) to say hello! i would comment more if i could but i really don't know what to say...just know that my heart is with you.