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Personal Battle with Drug Addiction and Eating Disorders

Personal Battle with Drug Addiction and Eating Disorders

This is kind of a sensitive topic and may trigger you if you are emotionally or mentally unstable. If you are currently struggling with addiction or an ED either ignore this take or read it supervised.

So, a little background; I grew up in a household where complete chaos was normal. Screaming matches when both parents were home, cowering in closets out of fear to be the next victim of frustration, guilt trips of suicide attempts from a BPD mom... except, everything was perfect from an outsider's view. From an Outsider's view, they would see a religious family fighting tooth and nail to keep their vows. They would see a loving and nurturing mother offering to buy needy children food. They would see perfect children. They could never believe how deceiving this family was.

My mother tore my father down when he was home with her insecurity and need for perfection. It was hard watching him take the verbal abuse and when she wanted a divorce, I couldn't understand why he gave in when she changed her mind. His solution; work longer hours. My younger brother was stronger than me, so he wasn't afraid to talk back to her or defend himself even when he got slapped or beaten. I admire him so much, had I had the strength to do that I may have made better decisions in my life. With my father coming home less my mother needed another target to drain. I was weak and spineless so I believed every cruel word she said to me and believed every slap was well deserved. She liked to dig at my self esteem so she would often say the only thing I would be good at was being a whore. She always said I was fat, stupid, and too pathetic to live. I wasn't a stellar student like my brother, I was slightly above average in swimming, and I always struggled with being a pushover.

My eating disorder started when I was eleven. That was probably one of the hardest years of my life. I couldn't stand the unpredictable temperament of my mother, and I didn't like the amount of control she had over my emotions. I was expected to hold in my tears and smile at all times. I became efficient in lying from suppressing my true emotions. Being a pushover, I had a hard time not being able to please people. At this point, I didn't know what I did or did not want. For some sick reason, the feeling of an empty stomach, the cold I felt, and the feeling of purging was comforting. I felt less empty by being physically empty, like all my emotional baggage was trying to claw it's way out of me. I was always on the average/light side of the weight spectrum, so my mom never noticed.

When I was fourteen, I hit another rough patch. I started high school and I guess this was the age people started dating. My mom filled my head with how men would use and discard me since I was a good for nothing whore that was too stupid and a waste of space. I tried Heroin, LSD, Meth, and Cocaine. I found I was more hooked on Meth and Heroin. I liked how painless everything felt with Heroin and it was like being ripped to Hell when coming out of it. The withdrawals BURNED. Meth was a different high. I felt physically happy and elated. Coming down from the high was never pleasant. I don't know how I managed to hide my drug addiction from my mom... maybe it was the fact that my best friend at the time was a drug dealer, or the years of suppressing myself made me good at putting on a fake persona, but I noticed almost every word that came out of my mouth was a lie. "I'm doing great!" lie. "It's ok." lie. "I like it!" lie. "That was amazing!" lie. Lie. LIE. My swim coach knew I struggled with an eating disorder, and she was the first to call me out on my drug problem. Naturally my mom was furious, but only because it made her look bad having a kid like me. I had to go through intensive rehab and let's just skip that part we all know the road to recovery is bullshit. Anyways, after rehab and scheduled meeting with therapists and doctors I got discharged and I was clean for two years. A fellow swimmer who specialized in the same event as me begin to struggle with an eating disorder when her mom was diagnosed with cancer. I relapsed with my ED but managed to stay away from drugs. She and I compared diets except she grew physically weaker quickly, her weight drop was noticeable, and the coach immediately contacted her dad. She wasn't allowed to train for six months. I got away since I was still performing well, not getting any personal best times, but within range. Under a hundred pounds was risky since our coach began weighing us after finding two people with ED's I managed to stay 104 lbs. until my senior year in high school when shit really hit the fan. It was a stressful year with my high school coach pressuring me to take an offer from a school I didn't want to go to, trying to swim for college even though I lost passion for the sport long before, and keeping up my grades. My weight plummeted to 96 lbs. and I passed out after a dry land session. I was hospitalized, and I decided to take a gap year.

I figured out what I wanted to study and picked an affordable University. Moved in with new friends I made and found the college environment lowered my anxiety so much compared to when I lived at home. One of my friends introduced me to a guy who taught me my feelings were valid. He was the first person to actually care about me, and never had any intentions of using me for sex like other guys. He is what motivated me to help myself. Recovery doesn't happen if you yourself don't want to get better.

Personal Battle with Drug Addiction and Eating Disorders
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