by Meg Jack

Created on: May 09, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

No. The answer is no, no, no and no. Absolutely not. I grew up chubby, fat, gross and disgusting. I was on every diet under the sun, along with my mother. I learned from her to hate myself, and I learned from her to watch what I ate like a hawk. I learned from my father that if you don't exercise 3 hours a day you're probably the laziest person on the planet. I watched him eat a banana and call it "dinner" then leave to run 5 miles. Once my dad was out the door my mom pulled out the ice cream and we "snuck," eating as much as we could before he returned. Then we talked bad about ourselves. My dad called us the piggies. Needless to say, I grew up in an environment where weight and diet were a big deal.

When I went off to college a thousand miles a way I struggled with the whole thing. I had to sneak food around my roommates and friends. When I was 19 I had a breakdown and was sent home- only to be diagnosed as bipolar. Somewhere during this time, as I became stable (or tried to) the medication helped me with my eating problems, and suddenly "I'm fat, can I eat that? eat it! I ate it... oh no, I deserve to choke to death" wasn't constantly running through my head. I was starting to eat normally, and reached a normal size.

It got to be wonderful. I was fitting into clothes, I was 5'6'' and 137 pounds. I was normal for a change. Then I started to eat as little as I could. I was really happy, why ruin it? People looked at me differently- I was happy with myself and finally outgoing, and they were responding to that. The fact that I loved myself made me love life. Slowly, though, I started getting even smaller. Even my dad, the man who didn't eat, said I was too skinny. I loved it.

Now, though, medications have changed, my thyroid is low, and I've been on different birth control pills. I've gone from an A cup to nearly a D cup. Last time I weighed I was back to 149, and I'm scared of the scale since then. I've become disgusting- every inch of me. I heard one, when I was in middle school, that you shouldn't be able to pinch more than an inch of fat anywhere on your body. I can't find a spot on my body where you can pinch less, except perhaps my fingers.

I am back to being disgusted with myself, and so I am disgusted with my life. I have a wedding coming up in April and all I can think of is to go back to not eating, or eating next to nothing. That's when I was happy. I can't stand to see myself anymore. I want to be bones again.

Is it possible to be fat and happy? You are happy when you are happy with yourself. As long as I've got this fat suit on, I'll never be happy. And so starts the drinking excessive amounts of water and trying as hard as I can not to eat.

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