A “Weighty” Story – Part Two

If you are just joining in on my fat chat, please feel free to get caught up on Part One here.

After I finished high school, I attended Texas Bible Institute. I had seven roomates. SEVEN.

Let me paint a picture for you:
Eight girls living in ONE room.
FOUR sets of bunkbeds.
ONE closet.
ONE bathroom.

No fridge. No kitchen. No car.

My daily routine went from completely sedentary, to very active, almost overnight.
I made the decision that it was time to lose some weight.
And so what did I do?


For six weeks, I lived on a completely liquid diet. I drank a mixture of lemon juice, honey, and cayenne. Some twisted version of the “Master Cleanse”. During those six weeks I lost 46 pounds, the swelling in my ankles, and my galbladder.

At the end of my first year at school, I had my galbladder removed. This was unheard of for a 16 year old girl.
The doctor said that my rapid weight loss and zero-fat diet were a lethal combo for my poor little organ.

Fast forward to graduation and my first job afterwards. I got an internship at my church, which ultimately turned into a full time job.
Combine the late night meals out with my friends, a sheer lack of time, and no desire to get moving… Do the math.
My weight started creeping back up.


My mom got cancer in 2003.

Her diagnosis, combined with my interest in a guy, motivated me to “get healthy”.
I embarked on a year-long diet and excercise program that was punishing and restrictive.

I chose not to participate in girls nights out, or dinners with friends. I was obsessed, and pushed my friends and my family away.
All I wanted to do was to be skinny.

I lost 75 pounds, my best friend Angela, and my conscience.
My mom had surgery to have her esophagus removed at the end of that year, and was in the hospital for four months.
My disordered eating showed up through an extreme restrictive phase, in an effort to feel some sense of control and to numb the fear that gripped me.

As a part of my efforts to ignore everything, I packed up my things, moved across the country, and enrolled in a private university.
The stress of the move, classes, and working a full time job triggered my obsession with my weight even more.
The pounds began creeping back on, and in an effort to keep them at bay, I began my first real cycles of restriction/bingeing.

At the end of that school year, the guy that I was in love with broke my heart, and my mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
I withdrew from the university, miserable and scared, and moved back to Houston.

Let me tell you right now, running from your problems and issues does not work.

That was a hard year. After I moved home, we settled back into life as a family.
My sister and I routinely binged together. We would chase our food sins with a round of laxatives and water pills, and sware off food for “the rest of the week”. It was a vicious cycle.

In January of 2006, my mom died.

Things went from bad to really bad. That night, I drove to my ex’s house and ate four plates of dinner.
It was the only way I knew how to cope.
Have you ever eaten your feelings?

My binges started spinning out of control. Isn’t that the interesting thing about an ED?
The culprit cause is usually control.

Over the next four weeks I gained 30 pounds.

To be continued…


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