Lost in a Fairytale

Okay. This is it. My story.

 I’m 15 years old and although im not gonna reveal my real name, for the purpose of speaking to me (if you want to) you can call me Kiara (key-a-ra) some names in the story are changed, some aren’t. You may not think my story is anything substantial, or anything that should have caused major problems, but its hard to write exactly how you feel i guess. And you haven’t lived through it.

Anyhoo, when i was a young girl, i never really had friends, but i also didn’t know what it felt like to have one so i didn’t notice anything wrong. Because of where i live, i wasn’t really close to anyone to just pop round to their house after playgroup or anything and my mum wasn’t close to any of the other parents. There was this one girl, Stacey, in my playgroup that would push me or stick her tongue out at me anytime she saw me. I knew to stay away from this girl. But she had friends, she was always surrounded by them, so i kept going back to her. Silly really. In nursery, i made my first two real friends. Jessica and Ruth. I don’t remember much from nursery, just old forms the teachers filled out saying that we played well together and i often went to their houses and birthday parties. In p1, Ruth left, and i never knew why, i still saw her mum at school, ruth just wasn’t there. Jessica was, although she got put in another class and so we didn’t speak as much. I still remember my first day of p1 though. I was just standing in the middle of the classroom, all other kids were in groups of twos or threes, then this one girl, Sophie; short, platinum blonde hair walked over to me. ‘hiya, friends?’ that was all she said, i instantly agreed and off we went to play in the box pit. Her name was Later i found out our parents knew each other and were in a way friends so every weekend either i would go to her house or she would come to mine. I loved this as she had horses and my mum had got me into riding as she had her own horse. It got to the stage where she was phoning me round to hers without even asking her parents, but they invited me in none the less. We were inseperable. It wasn’t till p3 came that we started to face problems. i suppose thats when my problems started. Boys started to speak to girls more when we reached p3, which was quite funny because people started ‘going out’ with each other. For me, there was this one boy, matt, he had been driving to my house every year since p1 to give me a valentines present, however we rearely spoke at school. I don’t know why either happened, why he gave me presents or why we didn’t speak at school. But when other boys started speaking to me? Thye called me fat. Ugly. I was told it was only because they were just learning these words, they didn’t know what they meant and it was true, but i was sceptical. Looking back at pictures of me then, i wasn’t too fat i suppose. My stomach bulged out, but the rest of me wasn’t fast. It wasn’t like i had rolls or anything, i just didn’t suck in my stomach. But still, they ran past me and taunted me with those words. Sophie had new friends too, i was still going to hers regularly, but i had dance compititions so she started phoning other girls round to her house, and slowly, i could feel us parting. When i was in P4 (when i was about 8ish years old) i got bullied a fair bit. This was when sophie totaly turned on me. The person that had been with me the longest. She had a new friend. Louise. Louise hated me. They told me they felt sorry for any horse i rode, my bum was too big for the saddle, was the horse still moving when i got off of it? It was horrible. Then one day, as i walked out to my bus, Louise ran up and stood infront of me, so i stopped moving. She told me sophie had something to say. As sophie stuttered i was confused. What could she have to say? The finally sophie said she couldn’t do it. I sighed with relief. Then louise screamed. ‘SHE DOESNT WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU OKAY!?’ it hurt. Sophie even looked to be in pain. I pushed my way past them and got on my bus. I started crying. At 8 years old, i was sitting on my school bus, crying as i was driven home. That night, i started scratching at my ankles. Then i noticed they started weeping a clearish liquid. I kept scratching. They started bleeding. I didn’t feel a thing though. The next day i admired them. Saw them as something to be proud of. I was hurting, and i dealt with it. I felt relieved. I had gotten rid of the pain from inside me. I kept scratching at the edges of one until it was considerably bigger. It took a few days for my mum to notice them. When she did i just said my ankles had been itchy. No more questions were asked. The rest of the year, i was in tears alot. More boys and girls had joined in with sophie and louises taunts. Me and Jessica still spoke, but she had a whole group of other girls. She was tiny, so thin, so pretty, so perfect. But soon she started being off school alot. She’d been complaining of a pain in her side/back. The teacher and her parents got really annoyed at her for this. Thye thought she was faking cause every time it happened, she was in such pain she got sent home. Eventually, after taking her to the doctors, her parents came in to speak to the class. She had cancer. I knew a little about this as my granny had had cancer and was fine, so i thought that was what happened. People got cancer, got help from doctors, they got better. I was wrong. Jessica missed alot of school, but by p5 she was coming regularly again. I wasn’t in her class though so i missed alot of information about this. I was put in another class, away from sophie and louise. I was completely alone after this. Any of the girls that had spoken to me had also been moved into the other class. A few years later i learned that this was my mothers doing. She asked for me to be moved into another class, away from the girls that bullied me. But i had no one. Two boys that had been in my p4 class still used the lines that louise and sophie had started. They continued to call me fat. And during the summer before p5, i’d been aat a family gathering at my great aunts house. Someone, i don’t even remember who, had been trying to take a photo of me, my sister and our dog. Whoever was taking the photo walked up to me and said ‘whats that? Suck it in, a little chubby are we?’ then they laughed. These words stuck in my head and until this day i still hear them crystal clear in my mind.

after the comments about my weight and size i started to not eat right, and pay attention to my weight. i didnt really know what i was doing at the time, but this carried on for the next few years. i started scratching when something bad happened that was either my fault or i felt bad about. it sort of became a punishment. and i was constantly thinking about what i was eating.

In p6, we went on a ski trip. During the trip me and Jessica got to speaking. She’d been in pain again and heard her mum say she’d have to get more tests. She told me she thought she had cancer again. She did.

 In P7 (age 10/11) i started eating barely anything. i took packed lunches the most i could where i started off by having chicken tikka sticks. 8 of them at something like 300 cals for the whole thing. People complained that they stank etc, so id eat 2 or three, give away about another 2 or three, bin the rest. Then people kept calling me fat and complaining that the chicken sticks stank so i’d have a splendip, eat about two things from it and bin it, then id drink my orange juice. it sort of made me feel good to not eat the food and whenever i would eat food from school i wouldnt take that much (i’m also incredibly picky) but then i was being stopped by the lunch auxiliaries and being made to eat everything. i hated this. it made me feel sick and about 5 times i went to the bathroom and made myself sick. then my teacher started phoning my mum and saying i wasnt taking alot of food to school. it was nice to know someone cared, but my mum just replied with ‘oh yes, she doesnt eat that much at home, dont worry, but i buy her food and see what goes into the box, its okay’ soon after that teacher left and i started academy. To start with, every other morning my friends and me would walk up to asda and buy a pack of 500g icing sugar. Its all i’d eat during the school day and if i hadn’t finished it by regi, i threw it in the bin. I often felt sick from it, but the sweetness was just too tempting. i wouldnt eat a proper lunch, i would eat sweets etc, no one could stop me, and no one but my friends would notice. i also started feeling really bad, i dont even know why, but i had these foil drawing things, where you had to scratch away at a black layer ontop of a gold/silver sheet of card to reveal a picture beneath. scratch away with something sharp. i dont even know what its called, but its sharp, and i got the thought of cutting my leg with it one night. i cut one fairly deep line one the back of my leg. it felt good. like i’d released all the anger and stress inside me. In November of first year, Jessica died. She hadn’t been to school since primary, she’d had alot of complications with the cancer and she died 4 days after my birthday. The day after that, my granny died due to complications from her cancer. I was there when she died. Id seen her try so hard to fight it over the whole of 2008, but in the end, it was the stronger force.

In second year my friends and i stopped this. We had a little bit of a fall out, but we were still primarily friends. I stopped eating lunch, or once a week i’d have a blt sandwich and remove the tomato cause i don’t like tomato. By third year, i wasn’t eating lunch. Ever. However, 3 weeks into 3^rd year, i started going out with this boy. Liam. He was amazing, sweet, kind, good looking and just amazing in every single, indescribable way. After the summer holidays of 3^rd year, people were saying how i barely ever ate, and he said he’d never seen me eat anything. Then it hit me, he hadn’t. He asked me one day to have something at lunch, so i got and apple from the school canteen. The next day, i had an apple and soup, the next day an apple at break and a slice of pizza for lunch. He made me feel good about myself. He was always so pleased to see me eat. He made me feel fantastic and i was happy and, dare i say it, a little confident? I loved how i felt when i was with him. I no longer cared about food. However, we got into some difficulty, one day he said ‘lets go on a break. In no way am i breaking up with you, i just think we need to go on a break for a while’ and so we did. Over the October holidays, we went on a break. I went to florida with my parents. My mother complained as the whole time i had my ‘face tripping me’ she didn’t know how much this was worrying me. I didn’t want to break up with liam. Liam had been my first kiss and my first real boyfriend. It took me so much courage to kiss him on the cheek after going out with him for a week, but it was away to be the summer holidays and i was going to brazil for 11 days to be with my dad, i had to do something, then after that, our first kiss happened after a game of spin the bottle dares. Someone dared me to kiss him. Being with him was the best time of my life and now i was facing the possibility of not being with him anymore?! I cried. I went on fb everyday to try and speak to him. The first week he said goodbye with three x’s. The second week i told him that i really wanted to buy him his bday and crimbo presents but as i didn’t know what was happening i didn’t know if i should. He told me everything would be okay, that i should buy them, we’d be fine. The second week, he said bye with about three rows of x’s and a row of <3’s. The day i arrived home, he never texted me, until he said ‘we need to speak tomorrow.’ That was it. The next day we broke up. He told people that he didn’t think i cared because i laughed. Little did he know that as soon as we parted i burst into tears. He said he needed time, that he didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, but that was all a lie. He later told me that he’d been going out with my friend that lived in Italy. She had moved there during the summer and they had been going out for about 3 weeks. I don’t know. Does that classs as cheating? Having your boyfriend say he was going out with a girl in another country, telling her he loved her for three weeks while he told you the same thing? All i know is that that night, when i got home, i first cried my heart out, then looked in the mirror, and all i could hear was a voice, telling me i was fat and disgusting and why the hell would he have even gone out with me. It was right. I completely stopped eating. Im not sure how i managed to get out of eating at home, all i know is that it worked. Four days of this, and i fainted off of a small wall that people sit on outside of my school during lunch. People next to me shit themselves, people at a distance thought i was doing something funny, showing someone something, taking the mick out of someone. He continued walking inside. When i was taken to the office, they made me eat a banana. I went back to class. 5 days after this happened, 5 more days of not eating, i fainted into a swimming pool after P.E. the teacher got my guidance teacher who tried to tell me that i shouldn’t try to fit in with the image shown by models etc, its a false image, and no matter how many times i said ‘its NOT that!’ he didn’t take any notice, he promised me he wouldn’t phone my mother. The bell rang, i went outside to wait for my bus, he walked past and said he’d phoned her, but she said i’d eaten fine on holiday so obviously there was nothing wrong with me. I hated him. I arrived home to hell. My mum started taking the piss. Moaning at me. I hated this. The next few days were horrible. I was told to go to the nurse for a meeting. 3 months late, this finally happened, the first meeting, i shrugged at everything, the second, i shrugged again, by the third, i debated telling her what had happened, and i did. The next few meetings i just spoke to her, but each time she weighed me she reminded me that i was a ‘good weight for your height’ then i got an assessment by the school doctor. This time i thought ‘y’know what? Imma spill everything, maybe i do need help’ and nothing. I never mentioned my cutting which was worse by this point, i just spoke about eating, told everything since P4. And nothing. I was told okay, but your still a healthy weight, thats all that matters. After that i had 3 more meetings with the school nurse. One time she asked me to write out everything i ate over the next three weeks. Then said ‘well its significantly less than what you should be eating, but your still a healthy weight so its okay’ thats when i decided fuck this. I tried to get help when i possibly wasn’t that bad. No one cared. Thats what i’ve learned. No one in this mother fucking earth really cares. I’ve had another boyfriend since liam, which i shouldn’t have, because i still love liam. It took 7 months of Scott trying to get me to go out with him before i said yes, when i said yes it had been about 6 months since me and liam had broken up and i ecided that maybe i should try going out with him. We were totally different and i think thats what helped us stay together for so long, but in the end also made us part. 10 months we lasted. But he wanted to do more, blow-jobs, sex etc, but i didn’t feel ready and i think it pissed him off. He took the mick out of self harm, knowing full well what i do and the fact ive tried to kill myself 3 times before, and he didn’t see a problem with it, that pissed me off. He’s the only person i know that i have fully told about my attempts. Now i have no thoughts of getting close to a guy again, i found it hard to balance tryng to lose weight and having a boyfriend. Especially since scott was rather possessive. He hated me speaking to liam even though me and liam had become really good friends- which killed me inside, but he was no longer the guy i fell in love with, he had cut his hair short and changed in so many ways, the guy i love now exists solely in my head, the liam i see now is just a shell of someone i use to know- now i am fully concentrating on losing weight. Only a handful of people at school still speak to me, thats a whole other story and so i don’t care if i lose them all. If i have no friends, i have no distractions. I am fully 100% commited to losing all this fat that consumes and covers my body. And i also know that i will find it beyond impossible to come clean to another guy about my self harm and suicide attempts. If i tell him, then he has to be the one and to be honest, i don’t know when i will trust someone enough again. I took a chance trusting scott, but he assured me that i could. I didn’t fully trust him. I didn’t fully love him. If liam had taught me anything it was not to trust guys or fall fully in love as you’ll fall flat on your face in extreme pain.
Now internet tests tell me i am OCD and bipolar. I don’t know what i think of these. I know i am most likely OCD as a family friend thats a doctor told me that i showed significant signs of it. Im in a fairly meh place. i constantly fight with my mother causing me to go into angry fits where i dont know what to do and end up cutting. we are TOTALLY different people and because of that we cannot get along and we fight almost every night. i try to keep away from her. now i cant eat anything without having diet pills, often taking too many, bullshitting shop workers so i can buy them, i also excersize ALOT, i find it fun so i dont care if people think i do too much, im happy with it :)

anyways. thats the jist of my story, i could go on for alot longer if i were to explain everything, especially about my attempts. anyhoo, for me, its not been a good few years. i feel asthough if my granny had been around she could have helped, and i now feel she’d be ashamed of who i’ve become but im looking to make myself happy, by being who i want to be, and looking the way i want to. i know it may never happen but imma try my damned hardest :) stay healthy <3 stay happy <3 stay strong <3 and dont be afraid to ask me whatever you like <3