This is not a happy post, exactly, nor is it for those who don’t enjoy hearing about personal turmoil. This post will be getting into the nitty gritty of where I started before choosing to change my life, and it’s not a pleasant place to visit. But I’m hoping that maybe my own story can inspire others who find themselves facing what I was, or inspire others to avoid hitting that plane themselves. So, onward, into the TRUE Story of a Fat Girl, not to be mistaken with the surface level “A Fat Girl’s Story“.
When Depression Started
As “A Fat Girl’s Story” goes into, around the age of 14 I realized how different to the other girls in my grade I looked, and I was often picked on and bullied for it. I hated the staring and jeering and the mocking, so I asked my friend one day how she looked as skinny as she did. This 15 year old girl told me she was on a diet called “anorexia”. (I’ll get into a huge spiel on body image in young women later.) I asked her about it, and she told me, “you just don’t… you know, eat. Well, except a hard boiled egg at breakfast, about a cup of salad at lunch, and some toast for supper.” She then went on to tell me about bulimia, the practice of eating foods you really enjoy and just throwing them up. I was convinced I’d finally found the cure to me obesity. I put those practices into play immediately, sticking mostly with bulimic eating. I quickly learned my body hated what I was doing to it, but I was seeing amazing results at amazing speeds. Bulimia became my savior, and my obsession. Eventually, I started to hate myself for doing it as I realized it wasn’t healthy. Soon it became my enemy, too, one that I couldn’t give up. I was finally beginning to be as thin as the other girls. Thus began my depression and my obsession. I hated the person I became for doing it, but I loved the way it made me look.
A Losing Battle
Soon, my new-found “sex-appeal” landed me what I’d desired most: a boy. I had finally found some sort of light in the dark. He was a pretty cute boy in the class above me, and he asked me out one night. I was ecstatic. We dated for about a week when I realized I was beautiful to him, and I was already skinny, I didn’t need to keep doing that to my body. So I stopped the throwing up, but I didn’t stop the eating. In a few weeks, I’d packed on a bit of weight again, and he noticed.
One night, he asked if we could talk. He wanted to break up.
“You’re just… too big for my tastes, y’know?”
And that was when my depression sky-rocketed. I didn’t pick my bad eating habits back up again, though. Instead, I turned to eating as my emotional outlet. I was quickly overweight again and the mocking kicked back in.
I finally hit the point where I thought
enough was enough.
I wrote my suicide note up. I was going to take pills, with my mother’s health issues we had plenty in the house. I couldn’t imagine the pain of slitting my wrists, so that seemed easiest. My note was simple. I don’t remember that much of it, but I do have it still. I’ve never been able to convince myself to throw it out. One night, when my family had gone out, I got myself settled on my bed with the note ready and took the first pill. As I felt it burrow in the pit of my stomach, something in me just clicked. It wasn’t this sudden understanding of the meaning of Earth, and I wasn’t happy after (still quite depressed), but I chose not to go through with the attempt. Nobody found out about it, and I continued to gain weight and feel miserable and depressed.
Fighting the Battle Again
I attempted to lose weight another time, as the age of sixteen came near. This time, I did it a touch healthier, I cut out some of my eating, but not to an extreme or unhealthy level. That one really didn’t get far at all…
So now we’re onto this third attempt.
How One Nerd Saved My Life
The depression was awful. My depression this past year was at an all-time high. I attempted to commit suicide one other time, but an online friend of mine had kept me on a call the entire night until the desire faded. The desire never actually left, though. Every waking moment that I felt my shirt rubbing my belly I was reminded that escape was so close. That same friend told me about how exercising would help with my body image and depression.
I began to Google the key ways to getting fit, alongside inspiration. Eventually, I found a post by NerdFitness. The things in the post struck…some chord inside me. I also quite enjoyed the concept of the blog, so I began to explore. Everything in that blog just… connected with me and inspired me.I began to apply the various practices preached there, I bought an Academy account, and began to work on myself. Thus bringing me to this post. I now post my thoughts and recipes, I’m so much happier, I’ve begun to see physical changes in my body, as well as so much more optimism in my day-to-day life. The previous depressed thoughts haven’t resurfaced so far, and for once, I’m excited for the future and every single minute I’m alive.
Thanks Steve Kamb,
A Fat Girl