Accusationes Anorexiae – Part 2 of 3
Despite what people think, I am happy.
September 31, 2011
Do you have any idea how insulting it is to be asked if you have an eating disorder? It is an insult to one’s character that they would do such a thing. It is like calling somebody pathetic and weak. I understand, I am somewhat of a hypocrite since I did have an eating disorder. However, I didn’t lose the weight doing that. And I was never really ‘full-on bulimic’. The fact that people say that about me, scares me – not because they may be right about the eating disorder, but it makes me question my own honor and character.
I’m naturally a defensive and closed person and so I really don’t like when people question me about my personal life. I got called to counseling after some teachers were talking about me and saying how I look thin and that they think I have an eating disorder. They want to get my parents involved, and yet they have no idea what’s going on in my life. I told them I was fine (and in fact I am not longer bulimic and I am eating healthy). I won’t talk to the counselor’s at our school because although there is a confidential policy, I don’t trust them. I am not comfortable sharing this part of my life with them, especially since they do want to get my parents involved. The last thing I want is to talk to my parents about any of this. I don’t want to talk to them because I know they will get the truth out of me, and they don’t need to hear that.
October 1, 2011
I went to dance today, and my director, Miss Kate, made a comment about me not eating a big enough lunch. It really upset me to hear all the shirt from my counselors and teachers and now Kate, who have been my best friend since I was 11. I went to the back in the bathroom, closed the door, turned off the lights and cried on the floor. She was still teaching class, but a half hour later she realized I was back there and made me come out. We had a talk.
She told me a lot of the parents are talking about me. They say I look anorexic and unhealthy. They notice that my bones stick out. They told Kate she should call my mother. This made me really hate the dance mothers; they can be so nosy and think they can say whatever they want. They need to understand that going to my mother is not the answer. It will only piss me off and make me want to not talk ever more. I’m 16; I’m not going to listen to my mother. I really wish people would stop going behind my back, talking about me, insulting me, and accusing me of eating disorders without giving me the chance to defend myself.
Kate told me that I don’t look happy in general, and that I always look weak. However, I feel happy. I felt happy until people started saying these things to me. I feel weak because of my exhausting schedule. I don’t understand why people think I’m unhappy. I’m not unhappy because of my actions or how I look; I’m unhappy because the way people treat and talk to me. She also said I should go see a therapist. I’m trying to figure out which part is more insulting: being accused of an eating disorder or being told I need therapy. Talking is obviously what is making me sad, so I don’t want to go see a therapist. They will only make me feel worse about myself. I don’t want to talk to anyone about it. I’ve moved on. I’m healthy. I’m happy. I want to throw all of this away and move on with my life. But people don’t let go. I feel as if they will keep coming after me for answers and explanations. I feel as if at every meal people are watching the way I eat.
October 3, 2011
Before, the only people who knew about my bulimia were Dominique and Niccolo. Today, I told Kate and Mackenzie. They listened as I told them my story. Mackenzie was quiet and listened; Katie on the other hand has had experience with eating disorders and I had a really long conversation with her about why I do it and how it makes me feel. She also made me feel a lot better about how people are treating me. I really need to stick to my guns and do what is best for me and my body. I will not conform to what others want me to be. Because I am the way I want me to be, for the first time in my life. I need to not let people hurt me. Everyone could tell I was upset today – even Clay who is usually a jerk to me.
On the way home, I talked to Megan (who does not know about my bulimia) about what everyone has been saying. She told me to go talk to my mother, to a therapist, and to the counselors. However, I can’t I don’t trust many people to talk to them about any part of what is going on. Honestly, I don’t feel the need to go to anybody. I’d rather cope with it on my own. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to listen to.
There is something so pure, cleansing, and beautiful about crying… but after doing it for four days straight – I’m sick of this shit.
I am happy. I love my body. I love the way it feels. I love living in my skin. I am happy.