As I begin this journey I hope I will be “around” to complete it, although on any given day, I will have to confess that I have no intention and/or desire to.
Maybe you have gone through what I am going through. Perhaps it’s not been you, but someone you love who decided to give this slow suicide a whirl. Or, it could be someone you work with. We are everywhere, yet most of you don’t realize it unless you happen to see one of the “successful” ones rushing around. Then you think, “UGH! Why would someone do that to themselves?”
That is a question that no one is able to give a solid answer to. Or maybe we just don’t want to. We don’t see it as a problem. We see it as always working to reach a new goal. Lower numbers across the board is what we want to see. A bad day—no, let me rephrase that: A RUINED DAY is one which we are all too familiar with. We have more of them than we have days that are NOT ruined. But it’s what we do. It’s what we become and it’s who we are.
My name is Christa and I am a prisoner inside one of the roughest, toughest systems you will ever see.
I am a daughter of Robert and Susan and baby sister to Michael and Leigh. For the last eleven years, I have been blessed by being loved by Matthew. My fourteen-year-old daughter is the most amazing person currently walking the face of this Earth and I am owned by four very spoiled dogs. I have an exceptional career. We live in a beautiful home with a Tahoe in the driveway and a Hummer in the garage.
During a time when many people are struggling to put food on the table, I am donating money to animal shelters, flying to Chicago and New York City on the weekends “just for something to do,” and buying overpriced handbags in which I don’t need and will more than likely, never even carry. People who know me believe I have it all together and why shouldn’t or wouldn’t I? I seem to have it all.
I am thirty-five-years-old. I stand 5'4" and today I weighed 92.7 pounds. I am eating disordered and it will probably kill me. And I’m okay with that.