This goes back to July, 1985. I don't remember the exact day, but I do remember it was roughly a month after my 15th birthday, and my mom was gone most of the day (which was new to me), as she was on jury duty--a full 8-hour day. This, I was not used to. This meant that, for the first time in my life, I was to be "Queen of the House", essentially, until both my parents got home. "Hmmmmmmmm," I thought. "So this means I'm not a kid anymore...Which means I've gotta start being more adult, even in how I eat."
So, how does a naive 15-year-old change their stripes like so?? Simple. Start exercising, and, this being in the days before the Internet, I had plenty of time on my paws to surf through the TV stations and find my favorite exercise programs. And start dieting. Ahhhh, yes...that MetLife book from 1969--with three diet plans. 1000-calorie diet; 1500-calorie diet; and 2000-calorie diet. Well, we're trying to lose weight and get rid of some of this baby fat, so the 2000-calorie diet is OUT, and we might as well skip the 1500-calorie diet too. No beating around the bush! The 1000-calorie diet, it is!! Combine the lowest-calorie diet plan from 1969 with the fact that, by 1985, plenty of low-fat, non-fat, sugar-free foods had been invented...bringing the daily total to more like 800 calories. So...there I was...consuming no more than 1000 calories, and more like 800 a day if I could help it...and exercising like there was no tomorrow...
So...well, let me take this a step at a time. At first, I did lose a little weight, and I looked and felt like quite a knockout!! But then those compliments started catching up with me...and by December, 1985, some people were starting to say that I was getting a little too thin. Along with me getting too thin, so were my nerves...and on December 2, 1985, I attempted suicide--took 7 of something called Atarax. Damned if I know, to this day, WHY I thought that would kill me! I mean, why not take all that I had of everything that I had??? Why not take a kitchen knife to my wrist??? Why, 7 Ataraxes??? I still don't get it. I think that, at that point, I wanted to die...but I didn't want to die...if that makes any sense.
By January, 1986, even my doctor told me she wanted me to gain a little of that lost weight back. At 108 lbs., I was apparently getting a little too thin. I didn't care. I just wanted to be super-skinny!! In my mind, I was going to be absolutely ugly until I was so thin that you could see right through me.
By my 16th birthday, if only I could find a picture of me from that time and scan it onto the computer, you'd see exactly what I'm talking about. I managed to limp my way through 10th grade, finishing the year by studying at home. What else could I do??? The thinner I got, the more fragile my little nerves got. Many days, back then, I just couldn't get up. I'd essentially cry my little heart out, and had no idea why either. I just knew that I was fed up beyond words with being picked on every time I went to school, and including by that point, that some kids still thought I was fat. FYI: I weighed about 96 pounds as of around my 16th birthday...Since WHEN is that "fat"????!! Kids can be so cruel sometimes--and neurotic!!
But was there anything wrong with me??? Hell, no!! I was finally starting to look (and feel) like a grown woman. That summer--the summer of '86, I kept extra busy so that maybe no one would notice that I was indeed withering away to nothing, because I was getting sick and tired of my mom, for instance, telling me I should eat more. WHY, I thought??? So I could get fat like she is???? Exactly. I wasn't going to let that happen, so I kept extra busy--reading...sewing...studying the Driver's Handbook so I could get my Driver's License. As of Aug. 1, 1986--the day I went and got my first permanent driver's license--, my weight was about 96 lbs. But, I was just about to have myself kind of a nervous breakdown.
October, 1986, I reached the point where even going to a private school wasn't going to solve my nervous condition, and one day, I can vaguely remember, I absolutely broke down and cried, because I knew that something was wrong. I just didn't know what was wrong.
And with that, I was admitted to the hospital--St. Vincent Charity in Cleveland, if that's still around. I had no other choice. I was in bad shape, and I said that I'd do anything to get better. My first night there, a nurse told me that I was slowly killing myself, and that if I didn't stop, my little heart would. That did it for me. No more excessive dieting. BUT, I remained careful not to gain TOO much weight.
OK, now if you think this was easy for me to remember, guess again. I've forgotten so much in the way of details, I wonder what exactly has happened to my memory!!
I'll be back later, to get a little more into this, but that pretty much covers the first--and most critical--year of my dieting rollercoaster.
I understand, by the way, that once a person is anorexic, that they can slip into that nasty pattern of behavior again at any time. That doesn't explain why I haven't, after 23 years. Maybe I reached the point of true recovery while in the hospital, in the fall of 1986. Maybe. I may never know.
I'll be back...later, or tomorrow.
Love ya!!
(Poofski)
