I Am a Compulsive Eater
I remember it was a spring day, and the family was spending the day at my grandma's house. My grandma has in her bathroom one of those doctor's scales, the kind where you have to slide the little things across to find your weight. Anyway, for some reason, my mom decides she wants to weigh me. I didn't really want her to, but I went along with it anyway. After she slid the little bars to see my weight, she literally gasped and said "oh my god." She was so shocked by how much weight I had gained. I don't remember the exact details, but I know my weight was somewhere between 90 and 100 pounds, and I was at least 4'8" but possibly taller. My mom was like "how did you gain so much weight?" and she was so upset. But I was ten years old. I ate what they gave me. I participated in dance and soccer. I had also recently recovered from an illness where I had been on prednisone. But none of that mattered to her, she just couldn't deal with the number increasing.
I just felt so ashamed and terrible. I always knew I was bigger than the other girls, but it had never really bothered me before. From that day on, I felt fat. I instantly felt like I had become to heavy to run and jump and be picked up.
After weighing me, my mom started talking about how she was going to be sure to get better food and do more cooking at home to try to control my weight (she didn't). But that was the day when I really started thinking of food as "good" or "bad" and that I wasn't allowed to have certain things. I remember after we went home, I waited until after my mom was in her room and got a snack from the kitchen and hid and ate it in my room.
Ever since then, I've used food to soothe negative emotions. I feel terrible about what I'm doing, but I don't know how to stop.
I just felt so ashamed and terrible. I always knew I was bigger than the other girls, but it had never really bothered me before. From that day on, I felt fat. I instantly felt like I had become to heavy to run and jump and be picked up.
After weighing me, my mom started talking about how she was going to be sure to get better food and do more cooking at home to try to control my weight (she didn't). But that was the day when I really started thinking of food as "good" or "bad" and that I wasn't allowed to have certain things. I remember after we went home, I waited until after my mom was in her room and got a snack from the kitchen and hid and ate it in my room.
Ever since then, I've used food to soothe negative emotions. I feel terrible about what I'm doing, but I don't know how to stop.