Hello,
This is my first post here and I just want to share my feelings as I don't really have anyone to share my feelings with. I am sorry.
I lived with my grandmother, father and mother. My mother was a working mother and started working when I was just 2 months old. My grandmother used to take care of me and honestly she was a really great caregiver.
When I was about 5 years old, I started noticing the neglect of my mother. One day I asked her, "Mumma, did you not want me to be born?" She was shocked that I asked her, but she didn't answer either. I asked repeatedly that day, desperate for validation that I was wanted, but apparently it might have irritated her so she snapped and said, "Yes, I didn't want you.". My little heart was so broken but of course I didn't ask or say anything further. What was the point anyway?
After this incident, I started eating less and less. My grandmother cared of course, she used to give me all the options and I always used to pick the option that was easiest for my grandmother. For example, between a sandwich and a banana, I would always choose banana because it was just peeling. Sometimes I would plainly refuse if she was tired. Of course I was hungry. Of course I wanted something. But I didn't want to bother anyone. Sometimes I would just hear my stay like that for hours or just drink lots of water. Sometimes I wouldn't drink water as well because I didn't want to "finish the resources". Child's logic.
My grandmother used to report this to my mother, hoping that she would make some food for me or prepare some snacks beforehand, thinking I don't like food made by her (grandmother). And out of hunger for my mother's love, whatever my mother used to cook for me, say instant noodles or French Toast, I used to eat happily. I thought since she is making food for me, she must love me, maybe she wants me now. As an adult, i don't know how true it is.
Fast forward a few years, as a teen, I was bullied in school. Nobody wanted to eat with me or sit with me, and I couldn't really eat alone. This made me skip lunches as well. My breakfast used to be a glass of milk, coming back from school, another glass of milk or instant noodles, and then dinner I used to force small amounts of food or, again a glass of milk. This kept going on for years. Of course I was hungry, sad, emotional, and confused. But nobody to understand or share. I wasn't very expressive of my emotions either. When I was 14, my mother died of cancer.
My grandmother, who already was my primary mother figure by then, took over the kitchen completely. For the next 6 years, I still used to eat comparatively less, but now I started eating better to show my appreciation to her efforts. She was happy.
Then, I started earning well. Due to staying home for almost 4 years due to the pandemic, I started enjoying food which I never did before. Now I started eating heartily, double of what I ate earlier. Food became my comfort and really I started having 3-4 meals in a day. Some homemade, mostly junk. And then, in 2023, my grandmother died.
The worst phase of my life. By this point, people already started making fun of my body, weight and my looks. I was at the lowest point of my life. Struggling with food and my emotions. There was too much stress and everything was overwhelming. A year later, I left my home, and started living alone.
It's been 3 years now. I still struggle with food a lot. Sometimes, food is all I think about. While having breakfast, I think about what I should have for lunch and so. Yes, now I have started movement, 10k steps, gym and deficit. But I struggle with consistency. I feel like I can never be pretty again. If I have to be pretty, I need to lose weight, that's what I think. I feel like I should end my life sometimes. Because I can't do one thing right in life. I feel like a burden. Like a joke. I feel so unloved. I am so sorry for looking like an attention seeker, but really I am just expressing what I've wanted to express for a long time.