Monday, June 11, 2012
I was the best good kid who was always in trouble EVER. I got in trouble for EVERYTHING. As a little kid I got in trouble for walking around outside in a swimsuit with a wedgie. I was maybe 8, I didn't realize I had my butt hanging out. My mom said I was trying to be sexy and cut up and threw away my beautiful new swimsuit that I was so proud of. I didn't even know what sexy meant at that point!
In junior high I would get in trouble when I would tell my mom about my day. Inevitably someone I knew did something she didn't approve of and I would get lectured on why my friends were wrong. I remember getting a poor grade on a test and getting yelled at. I started crying and said, "I just screwed up, ok. I'm sorry!" Then I got yelled at for saying screwed up (even though up until this point it had been just fine) because "It sounds too much like f-ed up".
I got in trouble when I was suicidal. Apparently I just wasn't spending enough time praying. I got in trouble when I wanted underware with a cute pattern instead of white granny panties. I got in trouble when I painted my nails dark blue with little moon and stars on them. Obviously that meant I was in a cult. You get it. I got in trouble a lot. I got in trouble for everything.
And the funny thing is, until my senior year of high school, I was a dang good kid. I was a teacher's pet and a goody two shoes. I always went by the rules. But I was always getting yelled at for something. I was never going to attain the standard of perfection set before me so finally I gave up.
I got in trouble. I started drinking, swearing, messing around with boys, smoking, and listening to music like NIN and Alice Cooper. (You'd have to know my family to know how big the music part really was. They threatened to break library cd's that they found in my room because it was not Christian music.)
I got in trouble even after those rebellious days were over. I got in trouble when my dad stopped by the pool I was nannying at and saw me in a bikini. The sad part is that I got in trouble for the wrong reason. I got in trouble because I was wearing a bikini. I should have gotten in trouble because my thighs didn't touch and my ribs could be counted. Someone should have seen that I was in real trouble, not just parental trouble. But no one did.
I was in big trouble. I was getting serious in my addiction to my eating disorder. I didn't think I was in trouble. I wore extra large shirts so no one else knew I was in trouble either. At least, no one mentioned that they thought I might be in trouble, or even heading for trouble. I thought I was hiding my illness. As I look back on that time though, there is no way I was hiding it. I just didn't have anyone in my life who would tell me that they saw the trouble I was in and the trouble I was heading for.
I wish someone would have explained it all. I wish I would have understood why I was always in trouble as a kid and young adult. I wish I would have known how much trouble orange would bring me. I wish I would have understood then that the eating disorder was trouble not a best friend who keeps a secret and comforts a broken heart. I don't know if that would have changed anything. But maybe, just maybe, it would have.