Of Eating Problemo.

Status: You are what you eat. Do I look like a hamburger to you?
Song: Cough Syrup by The Young Giants. 'Life's too short to even care at all.'
___________________________________________________________

First of all, I don't really know if this post is going to be mildly depressing or hilariously stupidly bitchy. That's because I have like 2 other posts saved as drafts, waiting to be continued. One is surprisingly mature and the other is downright bitchy.

I don't know why people keep pointing out to me that I'm underweight.

I had this medical examination earlier, and the doctor was measuring my weight, height and was calculating my BMI.

According to my BMI, I am underweight with the amount of 16.1.


In my very honest opinion, BMI is like the most fucked up system that no one should rely on.

The BMI  was invented like hundreds years ago and people are like, 'This BMI is the only thing you should depend on. If it said you're overweight, YOU ARE OVERWEIGHT. PULLSTOP. No questions asked.'

I don't know if you guys know this but BMI didn't count in our muscle mass. Not all of us has the same muscle mass.

Obviously, I am underweight. I am skinny. Doctors, families, friends, teachers, strangers kept pointing it out to me everytime we met.

"You're so thin? Do you ever eat at all?"

"I bet if the wind blows, you too will be blown away."

"SEE? I can hold your whole wrist?! SO SKINNY."

"Are you anorexic?"

"I never see you eat. You should eat."


I know. I'm bony. I'm skinny like a fucking skeleton.

You think I like being made fun of regarding my weight? Did you think I deliberately want to be this skinny?

Yes. I am sensitive about my weight.

When I was a kid, I refused to eat dinners because I never felt hungry during night. And I hate rice. I was and still am a picky eater.

One day, my dad was angry I skipped dinner for few days in a row.
 I was sad and pissed off.
So, I ate my dinner until I couldn't shoved any food down my throat.
Then, I threw it all up.

Ever since then, I had problems with eating.
Never mind that my dad loves to point out how skinny I am whenever we had our only weekend dinner together or when I'm in a car with him. He never talks about anything else. Geez.

Whenever I get depressed or sad or angry, I binge-eat.
I rarely throw up but I do sometimes feel like food stuck in my throat and it doesn't want to go down.
Sometimes I get terrible stomachache that I'm so used to by now.

Whenever I get depressed or sad or angry, I starved myself.
Sometimes, it reached the point where the only thing I ate for the whole day was a half bag of chips.
Sometimes, I only drink.

I don't have bulimia. I know I don't.
I also don't have anorexia. I just know.

It's just one of the ways I deal with life.

Damn. There ya go. One of my dark secrets I kept to myself.
 It felt good to let it all out. I should do this all the time.

I wonder if this is what blogs are for.

Comments