voices notes 2

I used to think that people wouldn't like me unless I was thin. That's because when I was little I was a bit overweight and no one liked me. Recently, my friend asked me when I decided to become "the sweetest person, like, ever." I told him it was after I was bullied in fifth grade. When all my friends stopped talking to me, I stopped talking to anyone, for a long while (or at least it felt that way). It was for maybe two years that I cringed at the sound of my own voice, expecting disapproval or seemingly harmless teasing; this fear follows me even today, when group discussions and participation points come close to giving me anxiety. I was conditioned to be as invisible as possible. Not being noticed was better.
I barely ate for about five years: it started by eliminating soda, then sweets, then all carbs. Sandwiches make me very nervous; so do rice and pasta. I ate 1200 calories every day, or fewer, if I could. My junior year of high school I started eating a lot, to cope with various stressors that all converged upon my life at once. I gaind weight, which stressed me more, and I ate more. I would make myself throw up after shoving half a pan of brownies down my throat. Every day I came home and weighed myself and cried alone in my bed and thought about what death would be like.
It's really hard to describe what happened to me, mainly for two reasons. The first is that I don't know how people will take it. I've only told close friends, and they've given me so much support and love both before and after I share my secrets that it makes me optimistic about telling more people. But I'm still wary of those who don't know me well and what their assumptions will be; this is only one part of me, not my whole person, and I would rather it not be the first thing people think of or refer to me as. And the second reason my story is difficult to tell is that it's so much- there are too many elements and factors and subplots that I have trouble remembering them all but I need to keep them straight and I need to give them all in one go. This story is unique, as each one is: it is not enough to say that I have an eating disorder, or that I was anorexic and bulimic and am in recovery. I need to tell the whole story.
It still comes back to me and affects many of the decisions I make in my day-to-day life. I am happier right now than I have ever been, but I still carry it with me and I can't imagine a time when I won't. Things have changed, though- I don't pinch the fat on my legs and imagine cutting it out with scissors. I don't start sobbing when I look at myself in the mirror- although I still do look.
When did I decide to become the "sweetest person, like, ever"? When I decided that what happened to me should not happen to anyone else. I deserve to enjoy my life, as do you.