This, was my addiction…..
Most of you know where I’m going with this by just looking at this picture.
Most of you have probably heard my story, but, not the details. The dig deep details of the real deal.
I used to be a meat eater, for 18 years actually. I was always more into white meat, but, I still enjoyed some red. I loved a bowl of ice cream almost every night. I loved Smart Ones and Lean Cuisine meals. I loved Taco Bell, KFC, pizza nights, buttered popcorn, Wendys, meatloaf, meatballs, meaty chili, Sonic, blizzards, smoothies from Pals and other places, I had to have dessert almost every time I went out to eat. I mean, I have even eaten, once, a half of one of those cakes that serves 4 people. I still had eaten fruits and vegetables, but usually, I was pretty unhealthy, and I didn’t care really. On my way to the barn to ride my horse, I’d go through the Wendy’s drive thru and get the Kids chicken sandwich with mandarin oranges. I even got McDonald’s BIG breakfast a couple of times. I even was a receptionist once and went out to eat quite often and snacked on mini chocolates and even had eaten on some donuts in the break room. I mean, you name it, I’d pretty much eat it.
I kept gaining weight. Then, it started….
I got a waitressing job and was on the move constantly. The scale came into my life. I stepped on it when my jean sizes started going up.
This was taken in 2010 when I was 134 pounds. Most I’ve ever weighed, so far, now, to some people, that’s not a big number, but, for my height and small frame, it was getting close to over what it should be.
The number on the scale was taking over. Controlling me. Taunting me. Being, well, a god to me.
I started trying to cut carbs out, getting more and more strict with my calories. If I ate a piece of pie I’d tell myself, “No dinner Kayla”.
I snack on veggies at work here and there. I’d eat a big breakfast and then usually not much for several hours until I got home, then, it would just be a salad, rice cakes, or something weird.
I’d step on the scale 3-4 times a day, didn’t like the number, no matter what day, I’d grip on tighter.
I then go to the store and buy chocolate laxatives. Look up stuff on how to make me puke. I’d eat tons of fruit which made me go to the bathroom, not in a good way either.
I’d eat a big meal, then go to the bathroom, stick my fingers in the back of my throat and make myself puke.
I’d starve myself, no matter how weak or tired or irritable I was I didn’t care, my mind was on one thing and one thing only, that NUMBER.
My weight was dropping and my pant sizes were too.
My coworkers and my parents were getting concerned.
Even on Thanksgiving, I skipped on the hearty food and just made my usual salad.
I started to miss my periods, my pants were getting baggy, I was down to 109 lbs, and a size 2. I’d do yoga in the morning, work a waitress job, and then sometimes run when I got home or go to the barn. My fingers started turning white when I went out in the cold and I’d lose a lot more hair than usual when I brushed it.
WAKE UP CALL….
I then went to the doctor, he told me that I had Raynaud’s Disease and my BMI was under. My OBGYN doctor had to give me the pill to get my periods regulated.
I don’t know when I finally woke up nor how, but, I think it’s when I started to run longer distances, I just loved it, and needed food to give me the energy to do what I loved.
I finally started gaining weight. But, because of the eating disorder, what could’ve put me further into the hole, I am now stuck with Raynaud’s disease the rest of my life and probably the pill.
But, I believe God did that for a reason, so when my fingers turn white, it’ll be a reminder for me.
It was an addiction. I had an addiction. I can tell you this to, almost everyday, I’m reminded of it.
Almost everyday, I’m tempted to go back to my old ways.
But, it’s still fresh, I’m still learning to accept me for me, love my own body and not compare it to others.
But that’s another story…….