In my head

I have been debating starting a blog about my journey with my eating disorder. I wanted to start this blog not specifically to have people feel sorry for me or even to help others with their eating disorders. If I do help others then so be it. If I could save just one person from going through the hurt and struggle of an eating disorder I would be more than pleased. So to start off, I'm going to clarify that ED stands for Eating Disorder. I know it can be confused with other things...you may know what I'm talking about. The second thing I want to clarify is that I will not be giving details of my eating disorder behaviors. There are enough websites out there giving people ideas about how to be a better anorexic or bulimic. Basically what I'm looking to do is to just help people understand what exactly an eating disorder entails and maybe even help myself with what remains of my eating disorder. In my experience, an eating disorder is not something people use to get attention. In some cases it might be, but it's so much deeper than that, more complex, and specific for each person struggling. It can be a form of control, a way to numb feelings, or anything. I'll start this blog off by walking you through my experience.

To start off, my story, in my opinion, is not a traumatic one. I was the 5th daughter born to loving parents. I grew up in a happy home that was centered on living a Christ-like life. We weren't the richest family around but we were definitely fortunate...enough that as kids we got to choose whichever sport we wanted. Most of my sisters chose the dancing route, but my sister Kaylee and I chose to do gymnastics. I loved flipping through the air and learning new tricks. What I loved most was that I got to watch my sister at practice. I so looked up to her. Everyone knew that I was Kaylee's little sister. 

You think that growing up as a girl, parading in a leotard all day, would have made me self conscious but I honestly don't remember ever feeling that way. It was only until I quit gymnastics at the age of 10 to switch to cheerleading that I remember getting those feelings. By that time, most of my sisters had moved out of the house and gone off to college. Those of us that were left at home were moving to a new, bigger house. We were moving into a much nicer area, with kids that had been much more privileged than I growing up. Usually when a kid has to move schools it's a difficult time for them but this move was not a hard thing for me. I remember having one really good friend, one that I had been friends with since kindergarten, but no one really other than that. 

As I transferred to my new school, I immediately became best friends with the fun girl named Holly, who still today is one of my best friends. We were both in band and we clicked right off the bat, which was new for me because I wasn't really used to meeting new people, nor did I like it. I remember wanting so badly to be popular and have many friends throughout middle school and high school, but I could never muster up the courage to actually talk to these "popular" kids. Other than a few close friends, it was just me and Holly. I never felt noticed by anyone. I was a cheerleader but I was so invisible.

I continued on to high school and the same feelings were there. I made the high school cheer team at a brand new high school. I was actually one of the best--not that I believed that back then. I could never give myself that credit. That same year I also got a boyfriend. I hadn't kissed a boy until that year and I felt like a prude because I hadn't. As the one of the first 10 cheerleaders ever at that school, I thought I might get some attention...but I was wrong. Few knew who I was, or so it seemed. I also thought that maybe being a cheerleader would give me the confidence to talk to some of those "popular" people but I couldn't even talk to the more well known cheerleaders on my team, and they were my teammates! This is when I really remember me controlling my situation with food. It wasn't about being skinny when I started. I just remember starting to hate myself. I would look in the mirror and all I could see was flaws. There had to be something wrong with me. I remember talks in cheer class about diet pills and how “fat” each one of them were. If they were fat then I must be huge (at least that’s what I saw).  I remember one day a girl on the team said “Karissa, you look so skinny. Like anorexic skinny” and she said it in such a way that almost praised me. That moment and that feeling has stuck with me to this day.

I finished off that year to find out I was moving to Switzerland. I was actually not disappointed still. Once again, I really only had one friend I was leaving behind. By then it was only my Dad, Mom, brother, and I left at home so we packed our things and left. I met a great group of friends over there. They were some of the funniest, friendliest, best people I have ever known and they considered me a friend but I still never felt comfortable with them. I was always feeling awkward around them and didn't know what to say. I felt like they clicked with each other more than they clicked with me. I would come home each day and go to my room. I was bored out of my mind so I began to eat nonstop. I obviously started to gain weight. I tried to take control by restricting. I would eat very little at school, which just made me even hungrier when I got home which led to more eating. I was so depressed and it was only getting worse. After a long 5 months I moved back with my mother and brother.

As I came back into the superficial high school I was so ready to leave, the insecurities escalated. I was back in that same environment, and not to mention I now had that extra weight from Switzerland. I was trying everything I could to get rid of that weight. I even remember my mother commenting on my weight gain. And so the restricting and the binging got worse.

I got a new boyfriend towards the end of my junior year. He was this cute, buff, popular guy that all the girls had a crush on. I was so proud to be his girlfriend and it was a relief because I automatically felt comfortable around him, and like with Holly, that was a rare occurrence for me. I was back on the cheer team and I was dating one of the cutest guys in school. You think this would be such a self-esteem booster for me but it turned out it was just more pressure on my image. I felt as if I weren’t worthy for all of this. I felt like everyone was judging me, like they were wondering how on earth I got my boyfriend.

Well my insecurities proved right when my boyfriend broke up with me after 2 short months because he didn’t feel comfortable that I wasn’t “Christian” because that meant this relationship could not go anywhere. Just to clarify, I was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (AKA Mormon), so DEFINITELY a Christian. It’s in the title! But that’s beside the point. I decided I needed him back. I thought I was in love with him and that he was the real deal. Looking back now I just thought that I would never be able to get another guy. This was my only chance at love with a man. I compromised my religion, chose to fall away from the church and ditch my beliefs, for this one guy.

6 months later, I succeeded in getting him back. I was ecstatic. I had a second chance, and I wasn’t going to let him slip away this time. The pressure was there more than ever. The restricting came on, full force, but this time there was no binging. I needed to control myself more than that. I began losing weight and the girls praised me at my school. A few months into the relationship, after some break downs and freak outs from me, he began to lose interest again. I was so insecure, down to no self esteem whatsoever, that it began to surface. I even tried to explain to him about my insecurities and my struggles with food but he responded with a text saying, “I don’t want to talk about this.” With that one text I shoved my problems down and didn’t address them with anyone ever again.

At the same time I was training to try out for college cheerleading. I didn’t think I was good enough but I thought this was the next step in my life. Cheerleading was the best part of me. I needed to be good. I was practicing so hard and giving all my effort, only to be told by my coach that I needed to lose weight if I ever wanted to be a Texas Tech cheerleader—as if I wasn’t struggling enough.

So back to the boyfriend…we ended up breaking up once again so I gave up everything I could to keep him around. Stupid right? I didn’t care. This is what I thought happiness was. He used me and I didn’t care one bit. At least he was still in my life.  

By then I was starting my first semester at Texas Tech. I was majoring in Petroleum engineering so school was obviously hard, cheerleading tryouts were vastly approaching, and the boy-toy was at the same school. My anorexia became worse than ever. If I ate more than I allowed I would completely shut down. I would go to my room or the gym and not allow myself to go anywhere. I was depressed, as you can tell, and I didn’t even notice it.

By the end of the semester I had let the boy toy slip through my fingers. I decided I was too much for him to handle. I was withering away. My family and friends were so worried as I was slowly killing myself. I didn’t care, though. I was still disgusted with what I saw in the mirror. Now everything started falling apart. My body was shutting down and I was not doing well in my classes.

It was February 14, 2012, Valentine’s Day, and I was going to the movies with my girl friends. I volunteered to go early to save seats. As I was there alone, I fainted. I woke up to strangers surrounding me and the paramedics putting me on a stretcher. I was met by Holly at the hospital. She was so worried, and obviously so was my mother, but this was a success for me. This meant I was actually good at my eating disorder. I know this doesn’t make sense but that’s how my mind viewed it.

Just two weeks later, on a trip to with Holly and our friend Ahalee to Abilene to watch a friend play baseball, I was taken to the hospital for a sharp pain in my side. I found out that I had gotten a hole in my stomach and I would be rushed into surgery. I was so numb to any feelings I just watched my friends be scared for me and listened to my mom be so worried for me over the phone 6 hours away. This was just another trophy on my eating disorder shelf.

You think this would scare me into wanting help but I didn’t know what I wanted by then. With the little faith in God that I did have I prayed to my Heavenly Father for help. I needed some direction since my choices weren’t getting me anywhere.

I didn’t think I had received an answer to my prayer. I went home to Houston for Spring Break when my mom made me go see a therapist for the first time. There we discovered what should have been obvious, I was an anorexic and had depression. My mom looked into treatment options for me where she discovered the Center for Change, located in Utah. My mom decided that was the best option. My dad picked me up from Texas Tech and I headed off to Utah. This is where my story really begins.

I know this post has been quite depressing but it’s all uphill from here. Reliving my recent past is hard for me. I can’t believe I didn’t see the goodness in me…but all in good time :)