My problems with food started when I was 18. I was a freshman in college and was living on my own for the first time. I would skip meals and only eat what I considered healthy foods. I exercised three times a day and check my weight everyday.
One night I decided to take laxatives. I took ten of them and went to bed. The next morning I felt horrible. I had cramps that were so painful I could barely walk. I barely made it to the bathroom and when I sat on the toilet my intestines exploded. I promised myself I would never take them again.
In the afternoon, when I felt better I realized that my stomach felt flatter. I also realized that I wasn't as bloated and I actually felt lighter. I took more laxatives that night. I continued to abuse laxatives for the next two years. At my lowest point I was taking 35 a day. I would binge on junk food and then take the laxatives.
The pain I felt from the laxative abuse was excruiating. But I actually liked the pain. I felt like I needed to be punished because I believed I was a bad, dirty person. I felt worthless and fat. I weighed myself everyday and if I was a pound or two over I would force myself to drink a bottle of Ipecac syrup. Just the taste made me puke.
People tried to help me. I was a shadow of my former self. My roommate called my Mom and told her that I had an eating disorder. My mother drove to my college and told me over lunch that I should seek counseling. Her advice went in one ear and out the other. I had lost so much weight that all of my friends were concerned about me.
My best friend Jesse called my Mom and told her that I looked horrible and needed help. He suggested that she stop paying for college so that I could come home and get better. I ended up taking a semester off and went to counseling.
The efforts I made were not enough. I continued to struggle and use laxatives. My body was so dependant on the laxatives that I now had to take them just so I could go to the bathroom. If I didn't take laxatives for a day or two I would become bloated and my clothes would be tight.
I started dating a guy I worked with. We went out for a month or so and the he found out about my bulimia. He freaked out and dumped me. It made my eating disorder even worse. I later met another man who became my boyfriend. After we dated for a few months my bulimia went into remission. I gained 30 pounds and was looking healthier.
When I gained weight, my boyfriend told me that I was chubby. None of my old clothes fit and nobosy complemented me on my body anymore. My boyfriend insisted that I lose weight and made me sign up for Weight Watchers. I was a size 8 instead of a 3. He asked me what happended to the tanned, toned girl he had fell in love with.
I didn't stay with Weight Watchers very long and eventually we broke up. I got a teaching job in another city and moved away. After 3 months of living in a new city I gained another 30 pounds. I was now offically fat. People called me fat behind my back and made jokes. Men I dated told me I had to lose weight and even my family started to tell me I needed to go on a diet.
After 2 years of being fat I stopped eating and lost 70 pounds in 3 months. People said I looked amazing and asked me how I had done it. I had become anorexic. I was only eating about 300 calories a day and was exercising twice a day sometimes for more than 2 hours a session.
I was hospitalized for my eating disorder and after that I quit my job. I moved to another city and gained 120 pounds. I was morbidly obese. None of my clothes fit and my family told me I had to go on a diet. I went back to Weight Watchers and lost 21 pounds. That is where I am today. I still have 80 pounds to lose.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Failure in the job force
After I left the restaurant I got a full-time job at Target cashiering. The pay was horrible, but the people were very nice. I liked the work, but it required me to get up very early in the morning. Something that is hard to do when you are depressed. I quit after a month.
After Target I started serving at another restaurant. The people I worked with were nice, but the management was very poor. It was a frustrating place to work. The money was up and down. Some days I would make a lot and other days I would work 10 hours and leave with 50 dollars. The commute to work was about a half an hour which is a far way for me to travel. I quit after 3 months.
After the restaurant, I got a job at a liquor store. The pay was terrible and the work was boring. They could only give me 9 hours a week. I left after 2 weeks.
I got a job at another restaurant and went through a very intense training. I loved the job and the people and the management was excellent. It was a far commute, but I was making excellent money. The uniform required was all white and at the time I was 100 pounds overweight. I was very self-conscious and felt fat all of the time. I wasn't taking care of myself. Customers complained that I had dandruff and body odor. I left the restaurant after a month and a half.
I continued to work with my client, but my performance began to slip. I was forgetting to do my paperwork and I was just not showing up half of the time. Eventually my client's mother wrote a complaint letter to my boss and I was fired a few days before Christmas. At this point I had no job.
I applied to many jobs, but nobody was interested. I went on a series of interviews that didn't go very well. I became frustrated and angry. I couldn't even get a job at a fast food restaurant. I had no good references from my jobs in Boston. All the references I had from Pennsylvania I had either lost touch with or they had moved away. I could not find work. My self-esteem suffered as a result.
After Target I started serving at another restaurant. The people I worked with were nice, but the management was very poor. It was a frustrating place to work. The money was up and down. Some days I would make a lot and other days I would work 10 hours and leave with 50 dollars. The commute to work was about a half an hour which is a far way for me to travel. I quit after 3 months.
After the restaurant, I got a job at a liquor store. The pay was terrible and the work was boring. They could only give me 9 hours a week. I left after 2 weeks.
I got a job at another restaurant and went through a very intense training. I loved the job and the people and the management was excellent. It was a far commute, but I was making excellent money. The uniform required was all white and at the time I was 100 pounds overweight. I was very self-conscious and felt fat all of the time. I wasn't taking care of myself. Customers complained that I had dandruff and body odor. I left the restaurant after a month and a half.
I continued to work with my client, but my performance began to slip. I was forgetting to do my paperwork and I was just not showing up half of the time. Eventually my client's mother wrote a complaint letter to my boss and I was fired a few days before Christmas. At this point I had no job.
I applied to many jobs, but nobody was interested. I went on a series of interviews that didn't go very well. I became frustrated and angry. I couldn't even get a job at a fast food restaurant. I had no good references from my jobs in Boston. All the references I had from Pennsylvania I had either lost touch with or they had moved away. I could not find work. My self-esteem suffered as a result.
A new start in Boston
I moved in with my Aunt and Uncle in Boston. The first few months I didn't work. My family paid my bills and I spent my days going to various therapists and doctors. I eventually got a job at a seafood restaurant as a server. I was asked to leave on my third day because they said my energy level was too low. I was on several medications at this point and it was difficult to stay alert.
My second job was as a personal trainer. I worked there for a week and they told me that I wasn't energetic and knowledgeable enough and I was asked to not come back. My third job was at a women's sportswear store. It was frustrating because I was working for people who were younger and less experienced than me. It was during this time period that I meet my boyfriend.
My boyfriend and I met at a First Aid class for my other job. I had been working with a male with autism for a few months. The pay was very high and I adored the man I worked with. He was like a son to me and I was very protective of him. After the class was over, my boyfriend asked me if I would like to get together with him sometime. It turned out that we both worked at the same mall and had just never come across each other.
After our first date, my boyfriend asked me to go steady with him. I accepted and he treated me like a queen from that day on. I would come to work and there would be flowers and teddy bears waiting for me. He wrote me romantic cards and took me to nice restaurants. We got along very well and not only were we lovers, but we were also best friends.
After 2 months of working at the mall, I left the store to work at another restaurant. I left because I needed more money to pay my bills. After a month of working at the restaurant, my boyfriend proposed to me. I accepted and we became engaged. I had only known him for 2 months, but I knew in my heart that I belonged with him.
We got married 4 months later in December. It was a simple ceremony at the courthouse. My parents didn't come. I didn't have a bridal shower and I received no wedding gifts. My Aunt anf Uncle kicked me out of the house a month earlier, so I had rented an apartment that my husband and I were going to move into.
A month after marriage, I tried to kill myself. I overdosed on my medication. A few minutes after I took the pills, my heart began to race and I got scared. I called my husband who was out with friends and told him to call 911 and to come home. He raced home. The police came and thought I had overdosed on crack. They searched my apartment for drugs as I sat there with no pants on wanting to sleep. The EMT was yelling at me to stay awake.
I was rushed to the hospital and after about 10 hours I was admitted to the psych ward. My parents did not come and see me, but they did call everyday. My Aunt came to visit and my in-laws and husband visited everyday.
The hospital was not as nice as the one I was in before. The people weren't as helpful and the groups weren't as enlightening. I was released after a week and sent home. I quit my job at the restaurant and continued to work with my client part-time.
My second job was as a personal trainer. I worked there for a week and they told me that I wasn't energetic and knowledgeable enough and I was asked to not come back. My third job was at a women's sportswear store. It was frustrating because I was working for people who were younger and less experienced than me. It was during this time period that I meet my boyfriend.
My boyfriend and I met at a First Aid class for my other job. I had been working with a male with autism for a few months. The pay was very high and I adored the man I worked with. He was like a son to me and I was very protective of him. After the class was over, my boyfriend asked me if I would like to get together with him sometime. It turned out that we both worked at the same mall and had just never come across each other.
After our first date, my boyfriend asked me to go steady with him. I accepted and he treated me like a queen from that day on. I would come to work and there would be flowers and teddy bears waiting for me. He wrote me romantic cards and took me to nice restaurants. We got along very well and not only were we lovers, but we were also best friends.
After 2 months of working at the mall, I left the store to work at another restaurant. I left because I needed more money to pay my bills. After a month of working at the restaurant, my boyfriend proposed to me. I accepted and we became engaged. I had only known him for 2 months, but I knew in my heart that I belonged with him.
We got married 4 months later in December. It was a simple ceremony at the courthouse. My parents didn't come. I didn't have a bridal shower and I received no wedding gifts. My Aunt anf Uncle kicked me out of the house a month earlier, so I had rented an apartment that my husband and I were going to move into.
A month after marriage, I tried to kill myself. I overdosed on my medication. A few minutes after I took the pills, my heart began to race and I got scared. I called my husband who was out with friends and told him to call 911 and to come home. He raced home. The police came and thought I had overdosed on crack. They searched my apartment for drugs as I sat there with no pants on wanting to sleep. The EMT was yelling at me to stay awake.
I was rushed to the hospital and after about 10 hours I was admitted to the psych ward. My parents did not come and see me, but they did call everyday. My Aunt came to visit and my in-laws and husband visited everyday.
The hospital was not as nice as the one I was in before. The people weren't as helpful and the groups weren't as enlightening. I was released after a week and sent home. I quit my job at the restaurant and continued to work with my client part-time.
Nervous breakdown
After three years of working two jobs non-stop, I had a nervous breakdown. I only showered once a week or once every two weeks. I didn't wash my clothes. I lost 60 pounds in a few months. I started calling out from work everyday. It got to the point were my supervisor told me I couldn't miss any more days.
My Mom showed up at my house one morning and told me she was taking me to the hospital. We went and I confessed to the doctor that I wanted to die. I was admitted into the psych ward at the hospital. I stayed there for a week.
During the hospital stay I participated in a lot of activities and met a lot of interesting people. After I was released I returned home to Philadelphia. The man I was seeing told me he didn't want someone in his life who was depressed. He told me never to contact him again. My best friend was angry with me because I had lied to her about my condition. I broke it off with her because I felt like my condition was too much for her to handle. I miss her to this day.
While I was in the hospital I called my Aunt and asked if I could come live with her and my uncle. She said I could. A month later I moved to Boston. It was hard to leave Philly behind. I had so many experiences there and did a lot of growing up there. I had met a lot of people and I loved the kids at my school. The hardest thing I ever did was walk away from my career. I just got up and left.
My Mom showed up at my house one morning and told me she was taking me to the hospital. We went and I confessed to the doctor that I wanted to die. I was admitted into the psych ward at the hospital. I stayed there for a week.
During the hospital stay I participated in a lot of activities and met a lot of interesting people. After I was released I returned home to Philadelphia. The man I was seeing told me he didn't want someone in his life who was depressed. He told me never to contact him again. My best friend was angry with me because I had lied to her about my condition. I broke it off with her because I felt like my condition was too much for her to handle. I miss her to this day.
While I was in the hospital I called my Aunt and asked if I could come live with her and my uncle. She said I could. A month later I moved to Boston. It was hard to leave Philly behind. I had so many experiences there and did a lot of growing up there. I had met a lot of people and I loved the kids at my school. The hardest thing I ever did was walk away from my career. I just got up and left.
Life never worked out for me
My name is Marilyn Archer and I am 27 years old. I graduated from a college in Pennsylvania in 2003. I was a straight A student and graduated at the top of my class. All my professor's had high hopes for me and I had even higher hopes for myself. I aspired to be a professor at a university. I planned on going to one of the top graduate schools in the US.
Senior year, I started having problems. I began to feel depressed and unmotivated. I was in a relationship with a man who I thought was the best thing that ever happened to me. Instead of the bright, aspiring, student that I was; I had become a tired, limp version of my former self.
When I began student teaching, I was paired with a male teacher who was friends with my adviser. He did not think highly of my teaching and trash talked me to anyone who would listen. He ended up giving me a C. After years of getting all A's, I had gotten a C in student teaching.
Because of the C I did not get to graduate Magna cum laude. I did not graduate with honors at all. All those years of staying in and studying instead of partying had gone to waste. No public school would hire me because of my C in student teaching, so I ended up settling for a teaching job at a private school in Philadelphia. The school was for special needs students and the work was very challenging and the pay was very low. I had to get a waitressing job at nights so I could make ends meet. I was working 16 hour days 6 days a week.
The other teacher I worked with at the school hated me. He spread false rumors about me and made false accusations against me. He told my boss that I was not doing my job, He would make up lies and tell me them so I would be hurt. He was a snake. He was also an idol on campus. All the teachers and my boss admired him. The fact that he abused students and back stabbed other teachers was not known. My life there was a living hell.
The restaurant was also a hard job. I was the head server there and was in charge of all the other servers. The bosses and customers were demanding and little praise was given. Most of the time the money was good, but some nights I would leave with 15 dollars.
I got involved with many men at both of my jobs, both emotionally and physically. I would sleep with anyone that showed any interest in me. In a 2 year period I slept with over 30 men. All of these men would take advantage of my vulnerability and would steal money from me and take advantage of me sexually. At times I was forced to perform sexual acts that I am ashamed of today. I died a little bit inside every time I had intercourse.
Senior year, I started having problems. I began to feel depressed and unmotivated. I was in a relationship with a man who I thought was the best thing that ever happened to me. Instead of the bright, aspiring, student that I was; I had become a tired, limp version of my former self.
When I began student teaching, I was paired with a male teacher who was friends with my adviser. He did not think highly of my teaching and trash talked me to anyone who would listen. He ended up giving me a C. After years of getting all A's, I had gotten a C in student teaching.
Because of the C I did not get to graduate Magna cum laude. I did not graduate with honors at all. All those years of staying in and studying instead of partying had gone to waste. No public school would hire me because of my C in student teaching, so I ended up settling for a teaching job at a private school in Philadelphia. The school was for special needs students and the work was very challenging and the pay was very low. I had to get a waitressing job at nights so I could make ends meet. I was working 16 hour days 6 days a week.
The other teacher I worked with at the school hated me. He spread false rumors about me and made false accusations against me. He told my boss that I was not doing my job, He would make up lies and tell me them so I would be hurt. He was a snake. He was also an idol on campus. All the teachers and my boss admired him. The fact that he abused students and back stabbed other teachers was not known. My life there was a living hell.
The restaurant was also a hard job. I was the head server there and was in charge of all the other servers. The bosses and customers were demanding and little praise was given. Most of the time the money was good, but some nights I would leave with 15 dollars.
I got involved with many men at both of my jobs, both emotionally and physically. I would sleep with anyone that showed any interest in me. In a 2 year period I slept with over 30 men. All of these men would take advantage of my vulnerability and would steal money from me and take advantage of me sexually. At times I was forced to perform sexual acts that I am ashamed of today. I died a little bit inside every time I had intercourse.
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