Story

Abby Giarratano Mrs Amberg – lesson 7 ELA- “doors to stories” door #10 Gouverneur High school. My Eating Disorder It all started when my mother died. I was 16 years old; it was my birthday. My mom promised to take me to get my permit, and then take me driving. It was mid-winter, and my mom was scared, but she trusted me. I passed the test, and I got my permit. I hopped in the driver seat and said, “Let’s get going.” My mom got in, and she said were going down back roads where no one would be driving. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. My mom started arguing with me about the way I was driving. She kept telling me to pull over and let her drive before I killed us both. She tried grabbing the steering wheel. I lost control and the ice on the ground took over. We spun in circles doing complete 360’s. A big truck came cruising towards us. The man crashed right into the car on the passenger side. My mother died instantly. I got out crying and screaming, “This is my entire fault, why couldn’t I just listen to her? None of this would have happened.” The man called 9-1-1, and when they came, we both explained what happened. When the ambulance got to the scene, I got in the ambulance with my mom. When we got to the hospital, they called my dad and he had to drive 17 hours to come get me. I stayed home till he got here from Colorado. It got late, so I decided to go to sleep and when he got here he could just wake me up. In the morning when he got there, he came into my bedroom and woke me up. I was sleeping with all my toys that my mom and I used to play with when I was a little girl. When he woke me up the first thing I saw was this perfect doll, and that’s when I knew I wanted to be just like her. She was blonde, had blue eyes. She was so skinny, and perfect. I didn’t want to be alive anymore. I was so depressed and I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted my mom back. Why couldn’t it be me and not her? It’s my fault that she’s dead, so I want to die. It’s not fair, I did this to her and they all want me to go and live a normal life. It’s hard enough to even look at myself in the mirror. When we got to my dad’s house, I asked my dad if I could dye my hair blonde. He said yes and I was so happy. We went to the store and I bought bleach blonde hair dye. When we got back to the house I got on the computer and ordered a pair of blue colored contacts, so I’d have the same eyes as the doll. It came time for us to have my mother’s funeral. We drove 17 hours to my hometown to go to it. I sat alone during the ceremony because I felt like my mother’s death was my entire fault. At times, I didn’t even want to go to the funeral. I knew it was a way to forgive myself. My friends showed up and supported me. I sat alone, crying, and not wanting to talk to anyone. I hated myself for what I did, and not listening to my mom. We went back to the house, and my dad told me I had to go to school; I couldn’t drop out. The first day of the new school didn’t go as I thought it would. When I walked down the hallways, all I kept hearing was, “That new girl’s ugly,” “She’s fat.” When it was lunch time, I didn’t know where to sit, so I sat alone, and I heard this girl and her friends saying,” Isn’t that the girl that killed her mother?” I went home crying; my dad asked, “Wendy, what’s the matter?” I didn’t answer him; I just ran to my room and cried. When it came to dinner time, I didn’t want to eat. My dad called me down, but I ignored him. That night, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and that’s when I remember becoming unhappy with the way I looked. I looked fat, disgusting, and gross. I didn’t look pretty at all. I had an idea to lose weight. First I’d lose five pounds, then ten pounds, then fifteen pounds. The next morning I didn’t eat breakfast, and I told my dad I wasn’t going back to the school because of what the kids were talking about. I went to the store and bought makeup. I thought, “Maybe I can cover up how gross I look.” I bought cover up, eye liner, mascara, blush, and sparkly purple eye shadow because that’s the color my doll had. I got home and it was lunch time, but I didn’t eat. I went upstairs to put the make up on. It looked so good with my blue eyes. After a month I went back to school. People still talked behind my back, but I just stuck to myself. I still felt fat, but everybody noticed a big weight loss; I didn’t notice anything. I was addicted to losing weight; I couldn’t just stop because people wanted me to. I wanted to keep losing, and I was working on it. I set a goal to be 99 pounds by my birthday. I’m almost there. We got called down one by one for a physical at the nurses’ office. I got my height and weight checked. I was 5’ 6” and I weighed 115 pounds, only 16 more pounds and I would hit my weight goal. I felt so fat, I stopped eating completely. No breakfast, no lunch, no dinner, and definitely no snacks. I just drank soda to keep my body thinking that I’m full. It is my birthday, I’m 17, and it’s been a year since my mother and I were in a car accident, and it ended her life. I’m still so depressed; there’s not one night I don’t cry myself to sleep. I miss her so much. I had to go for a yearly checkup at the doctor’s. I weighed 99 pounds and I had reached my goal!! I’m so happy; I loved it, time to make a new goal. I’m going to be 85 pounds in a month. I don’t know why, but I still felt fat. The doctor told me if I don’t eat, I’ll end up in the hospital or dying. I didn’t listen; I was only losing weight. I didn’t see what the big deal was. I just was so depressed about my mother dying; I didn’t have any coping skills. I harmed myself and not others. One month later….. I should have listened to the doctor. I can barely breathe. I can’t walk anymore. Everyone wants to me to go the hospital, but I don’t want to, I still feel fat. My hair started falling out little bits at a time. If I had to go to the bathroom, I’d have to yell to my dad and he’d have to come and carry me. He said, “Wendy, you look terrible; you need to go to the hospital.” I didn’t want to, there’s nothing wrong with the way I look. I’d puke every time I drank water or tried to eat. I would overheat, so I had to have a fan next to me while I puked. But if I was in bed in my bedroom, I was usually freezing, I have no meat on to keep my body warm. My stomach hurt so bad. I was used to just fighting off the hunger pains, but this time I couldn’t. I went downstairs into the kitchen, and I got some dry cereal. When I went to bite down on a piece, I felt it coming up. I just couldn’t eat; every time I ate I puked. I was crying because I couldn’t eat. I tried helping myself on my own. I just couldn’t do it; I cried and cried; I never stopped. I was taking depression medicine, and it still wasn’t helping me. I just missed my mom. I wanted her back here; she would be helping me through all of this. I was in the bathroom puking, and I passed out. I woke up at the hospital, and they told me I ended up having a stroke and I nearly died. When I went to the hospital, they hooked me up on oxygen and IV’s. I thought I was going to die that night. I weighed 85 pounds, and I had reached my goal. The next morning when I realized what had happened, I talked to my dad about what was going on in my head. I told him that I wanted to die, and I wasn’t giving up till it happened. He was disappointed and told me that everything would be okay and not to worry about the past. The doctor came in and diagnosed me with anorexia. He explained to me what could have happened if I hadn’t come to the hospital. I felt a little better, but I still felt fat. I just have to get better. I have to stay in the hospital till I gain more weight. After three months of being in the hospital, they let me out weighing 116 pounds. I knew what my mom would want me to do: eat. I’m in recovery; I’m eating, but slowly, and healthy food, not junk. My dad is here supporting me, but I’m graduating this year and I’m going to college back in my hometown; that’s where I belong. I still don’t like the way I look, but I stopped caring. I know that I’m beautiful on the inside. Who cares about the outside? I still miss my mom, but I’ll be with her eventually, not yet because I have time I need to live for. My dad is proud of me. I have my license and a car, and I drive all the time. I am really careful in the winter time. I wouldn’t want to get in another car accident, unless it’s me getting injured, not anyone else. I made a lot of friends at school, but some of them still call me ugly and fat. I don’t let them get to me, because I know that I’m beautiful in my own special ways. My friends that I met here in Colorado were upset when I told them I was leaving after graduation, but they understood that I belong with my mother. I visit her grave every day, after my classes. I love her and miss her terribly. I know she’d want me to be happy and that’s what I’m trying to be.