Reblogged this on Bipolar For Life and commented:
Yup-per: I didn’t get bulimia from my mother, like this poor girl did. Instead, I got restrictive anorexia, from being told I was “chubby” and being called “fat ass” until I just wanted to disappear. So food became my enemy. I ate only enough to keep from passing out from hypoglycemia. I dropped from 120 lbs. to 78 within a year. Then I was able to get in and out of my size 3 Junior Petite jeans without opening the top button. Neat, huh?
This sounds a lot like stuff my dad used to say. He’d always make comments around me about “Well ___ would never date someone like ____. He’s way too good looking for her.” or “That girl is SO far out of his league. No one that beautiful would ever date a slob like him!” I ended up internalizing that crap and truly believing that if I ever became too fat, had too much acne, or wasn’t tan enough, (or a dozen other things) that my future boyfriend would not only leave me, but would be *justified* in doing so. He would also be “authorized” to cheating on me, treating me like crap, and disappearing out of my life without a word. I still struggle with that crap, almost 10 years later.
Reblogged this on Bipolar For Life and commented:
Yup-per: I didn’t get bulimia from my mother, like this poor girl did. Instead, I got restrictive anorexia, from being told I was “chubby” and being called “fat ass” until I just wanted to disappear. So food became my enemy. I ate only enough to keep from passing out from hypoglycemia. I dropped from 120 lbs. to 78 within a year. Then I was able to get in and out of my size 3 Junior Petite jeans without opening the top button. Neat, huh?
This sounds a lot like stuff my dad used to say. He’d always make comments around me about “Well ___ would never date someone like ____. He’s way too good looking for her.” or “That girl is SO far out of his league. No one that beautiful would ever date a slob like him!” I ended up internalizing that crap and truly believing that if I ever became too fat, had too much acne, or wasn’t tan enough, (or a dozen other things) that my future boyfriend would not only leave me, but would be *justified* in doing so. He would also be “authorized” to cheating on me, treating me like crap, and disappearing out of my life without a word. I still struggle with that crap, almost 10 years later.
I see my mother every few months (I live abroad) and half the times she says I’m too fat, and half the times I am too thin 😀