How I Dealt with Grief I grew up in a happy household. Middle America, nuclear family with a normal life. We went to church every Sunday. We always sat down at the table and ate together as a family. I ate breakfast with my father and brother. My mom made us oatmeal everyday with biscuits and bacon. I remember my dad's smiling face, he loved breakfast. We also had dinner together everyday. Mom would cook, and the older kids would wash the dishes. We all held hands and said the prayer, then chatted about what was going on at school. Then one day, my dad died of a heart attack. I couldn't understand why the world didn't just stop. People's lives were going on around me and I didn't understand why. I never sat at that table again. My family drifted apart. Everyone had their own grief, I dealt with mine by not eating. For the next 12 years, I ate only to keep up appearances. That's when someone would make a comment about how skinny I was, then watch me eat. I would just have to work out extra hard when that happened. I started throwing up too. After a while it would just come natural, everytime I ate something I would throw up. It stunted my growth. My sister is 5'11" and my brother is 6'4". At 14 years old I stood 5'6", 54pounds. My mom figured out what was going on. I went into counseling. I stuck with both the counseling and starving until college. It didn't change much, but it did make my mom feel better. I met my husband when I was 22. I weighed 98 pounds. I found happiness and things started to change. He taught me how to eat again. My weight went up to 140 pounds. for the first time in my life. Some days I thought I would die just for being so fat. Being pregnant was hard. I knew I had to eat so that my baby would be healthy. Now, I know I need to eat so that I can be healthy for my baby. I try not to be crazy, but I gained so much weight when I was pregnant. It's 2 pm, so far today I've had one cup of coffee with two teaspoons of milk. I just can't eat. I don't feel good.
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