I know I don't have any followers right now, but I figured that maybe that means this is the best time to begin opening up about my struggles and goals for the blog.
When I was younger (middle school age) I was a competitive gymnast. I worked out about 16-20 hours a week and spent most weekends competing. My summers involved practice Monday-Friday from 9-4 with a two hour lunch break. I quit in 8th grade as a level eight gymnast. After many injuries and pressure from my mom to quit, I guess I decided it was finally time. This was a difficult transition; my life was all about gymnastics, that was who I was, I loved it. For the first time in my life I had all this free time. I didn't know what to do with myself. When I was a gymnast, weight was the last thing on my mind. I really didn't know or care what I weighed. I think quitting gymnastics left me without an identity. It also left me without a way of coping with normal middle school aged drama. Somehow at the end of 8th grade I began to equate my weight with my worth. I began to weigh myself and became obsessed with the number on the scale. I began exercising a lot and trying to avoid eating. Eventually, this led to bingeing which ultimately led to bingeing and purging behaviors in high school.
Enter 9th grade. I had lost a few pounds. I was never big to begin with- I was always muscular and people would comment on how tiny yet strong I was. These few pounds lost (while they felt victorious for me) were largely unnoticed by my friend and family. It wasn't until halfway through ninth grade that my parents expressed concern. My mom confronted me about my purging behaviors and the amount of weight lost. She took me to see my doctor who told me I needed to gain some weight back or I would have to go into a residential program. This scared the living crap out of me so I attempted to gain the weight. Unfortunately by this time, my thinking had already started to become obsessive. Suddenly a cracker wasn't just a cracker but 30 calories. I remember one poignant time sitting at the table staring at a glass of milk, some saltines, and maybe some nuts and bawling while my dad urged me to eat it. I was terrified. The "voices" in my head kept telling me how fat I would get if I touched the food.
Enter 9th grade. I had lost a few pounds. I was never big to begin with- I was always muscular and people would comment on how tiny yet strong I was. These few pounds lost (while they felt victorious for me) were largely unnoticed by my friend and family. It wasn't until halfway through ninth grade that my parents expressed concern. My mom confronted me about my purging behaviors and the amount of weight lost. She took me to see my doctor who told me I needed to gain some weight back or I would have to go into a residential program. This scared the living crap out of me so I attempted to gain the weight. Unfortunately by this time, my thinking had already started to become obsessive. Suddenly a cracker wasn't just a cracker but 30 calories. I remember one poignant time sitting at the table staring at a glass of milk, some saltines, and maybe some nuts and bawling while my dad urged me to eat it. I was terrified. The "voices" in my head kept telling me how fat I would get if I touched the food.
Sorry for stopping in the middle but I will continue this tomorrow! Goodnight all!
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