The summer after my Sophomore year was when I started to fall apart. I did nothing that summer. When school started this is how my schedule went.
School, no lunch except for Wednesdays. ( I stopped eating lunch at school in 7th grade)
Come home, and eat 300 or less calories right after school. (My dad didn't get off work until 5)
Go to my room upstairs, watch tv, and sleep. My dad would yell at me to eat dinner some nights and some nights he wouldn't. He got sick of me saying I ate right after school so I wasn't hungry so he just stopped asking me all together.
Around January I started to have problems. I started having tachycardia and serious anxiety attacks at school. I was taken to a clinic and weighed 113 pounds with all my clothes on. Which is considered underweight for someone of my height. They didn't say anything about it and just gave me a prescription for Prozac, I took the first month and my dad refused to buy me any more because he didn't want me to be medicated, but it was just starting to help me.
Then something horrible happened. Someone in my family, will remain anonymous, was drunk at my house and came in to my room. He told me that he knew I was looking for a job and was willing to pay me for blowjobs.
I was asked to be a whore.
I couldn't believe it. I dropped 8 more pounds. This is where it gets hazy. Being underweight has a way of messing with your brain. I honestly don't remember anything that happened around this time. All I remember is blocks of school and wearing size 1 jeans and that my boyfriend and I broke up. I found out he had stayed at a sleepover down the street from me and wouldn't answer his phone when I was suicidal. My best friend at the time came and picked me up and I stayed the night with her. I came home the next day to find on my facebook that he had messaged me and broke up with me. I saw a picture of him with a girl at the sleepover and turns out they had hooked up at the party and he had broken up with me for her.
A pretty cheerleader. Someone prettier than me. Someone skinnier than me. I don't remember much of anything. But about a year ago I talked to him about that time. He told me that I was actually skinnier than her and he used her as an excuse to leave me so he didn't have to see me shrink anymore. Now that I know the truth we don't hate each other, we still talk and hang out.
That was the lowest weight I have ever been and probably ever will be. It ruined my memory, kept me from being able to have a relationship or even friendships. I cant remember anything about what happened between me and my friends at school.
