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last night I pretty much hit this wall. i couldnt focus on anything. it was hell. i felt exactly the same as i did on those nights at my dads when i wouldnt be able to sleep and my mind just kept wondering and thinking. not even controlled thinking. it wasnt me thinking these things. and i couldnt stop it. the more i tried to ignore it, the more
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Anyway, reading this entry made me want to cry because it reminded me so much of my sister. It's almost scary...the things you wrote could have honestly come straight from her mouth. She started starving herself when she was like 13 and it's weird because she played basketball too. I was like 9 and I remember she would just be exhausted all the time because all she would do was exercise and starve herself. I was one of the few nine year olds who about calories and fat. By high school she had figured out how to be bulimic, which was beyond insane. She was running varsity cross country too and I have no idea how she didn't pass out more often. But yeah, she went through therapy, and eventually a treatment program, but it's always still kinda there. It was always such a huge part of my family life that I kind of always had to keep secret. Amy, and maybe a few of my other friends knew, but I tried my best not to tell people that it wasn't unusual to wake up every morning and find all the food in the kitchen gone. That wasn't even close to the worst of it.
But I can talk with her about it now, about the kind of things you wrote about that are only a piece of the kind of thoughts that just wouldn’t go away. Her senior year of high school she was insanely thin and she tells me about wanting to be the thinnest girl in her class and about using it to get back at all the girls who were once her friends, and how she didn’t really care if she died the next day as long as she was thin.
I always wanted to keep her problems secret and a lot of times I felt kind of angry at having an eating disorder and because I just felt so ashamed, which I feel horrible saying, but it’s true.
But seeing the parallels in what you wrote makes me feel different, it makes me think of her with love rather than anger for not getting better.
So…this comment is really long, sorry about that. If you ever wanna talk though, there probably isn’t much that I haven’t heard or seen before through her, and I’ve done and felt some of it myself.
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