I started out in a normal family no abuse, no overprotective stuff, no alcoholism, my parents didn't even smoke. I don't really remember a whole lot of things before kindergarten but I liked kindergarten my only problem was I couldn't tell anyone. I always told people how much I hated everything even if it wasn't true. That's kind of a strange thing coming from a 5 year old. Then first grade came and one project in particular caused my teacher to call my parents. We had to draw pictures of things we did with our parents. I guess I just couldn't think of anything good in my life so I put " me and my dad sit around and be bored " even though it wasn't true. Like I said I COULDN'T say anything positive, even though I wanted to so badly something inside of me wouldn't let me. My parents took me to a doctor I think because I was diagnosed with pennymal seizures ( I think that's what they're called) where I would space out for like thirty seconds and my body would shut down all of my senses, I didn't even know when it happened because when I came back I just picked up where I left off. They put me on medication that made me even more depressed and as I got older I would isolate myself from my classmates. Everyone picked on me up until fourth grade, I tried to tell my parents but they told me to ignore it which only made it worse. I guess they thought I was too little to be depressed and they never took me seriously when I tried to tell them the other kids hated me. They had a reason to, I was mean, I was mean because I hated myself. Every day I would come home and my dad would ask me how my day was my brother would reply "good" and I would say something like "it was terrible" even if it wasnt then id regret it and beg him to ask me again so I could say good. He'd ask me and I'd try to say I had a good day but I just couldn't so I would run to my room crying. Even though I got good grades I would always tell my parents I was failing in school. I still don't know why I did it, why I couldn't just tell the truth. Then we moved to California and it really changed my life. I was ten and I saw it as a way to start over and I did. Fifth, sixth and seventh grade I had friends good grades and a family. Everything seemed great I wasn't depressed and I had forgotten all those little things from my past. When I was 13 my grandparents got divorced. It was a scary thing because my grandma means the world to me. I literally watched her destroy herself drinking, smoking, barely eating and going out to clubs all the time. She's such a beautiful woman and it hurt me so much when she isolated herself from the family. I haven't seen her since that summer. Then my parents got divorced, that's what really threw me my dad cheated on my mom so the first thing I did was take out all my anger on him. We didn't speak for about a year and in that time the woman had become his wife and she was pregnant with his baby. My mom was suicidal and obsessive, she would manipulate and lie and I couldn't trust her at all. Didn't have anyone, I was all alone. After time passed I forgave my dad and had moved n to my mom, she promised it was going to be me my brother and her from then on. Not a month later she met a man on the internet and brought him home to live with us. He slept in our house the first night and it was scary. After he came I got worse, I began lashing out at everyone and my anger flew in all directions, especially at him and my mom. She lied to me repeatedly and I felt isolated so that's what I did, I took myself away from my family but that didn't stop the fights they just got worse, they got louder and more physical with my brother acting as a mediator. I would hit my mom and ruin her things I even hit her boyfriend on occasion. I BECAME ABUSIVE. But I denied it, I told myself 14yr old girls were not abusive. I was hurting so much inside especially from my moms deception. I turned to myself and saw a worthless useless girl and began to occupy myself in losing weight, I would chew my food up and spit it out then binge on huge amounts of food and purge, I tried cutting myself and even attempted suicide. But that's what I wanted. I was so fat. I hit 96lbs and my parents sent me away, I felt like my dad betrayed me, I was used to it from my mom. I came back at 112 three weeks later and no medication. I was so behind in school. We moved to another town closer to my school and I started 10th grade. I gained a lot of weight I'm now 132 and 5'3 and I hate myself for it. My mom is never her neither is my brother, I'm always home alone but it doesn't bother me so much anymore because I still throw up and I can only do that alone. My mom doesn't even sleep here. I just remind myself that I never had a REAL eating disorder or REAL depression or REAL problems, I'm just a big baby that cant handle change after all I was never abused right?. I'm 15 now and I'm hoping to get away from all of this by moving to my dads on Jan. 1st 2000. Hopefully the next millennium will be worth waiting for. Thanks 4 listening I just needed to get that all out there. E-mail me if you have any advice but please nothing about eating disorders cuz I don't have one and if I do its only cuz I want one.
kemty@earthlink.net