I was a gymnast until the age of 10, when my father made me quit- because he made me choose between eating a bag of cheerios and quitting gymnastics- and I chose to quit gymnastics- because of how terrified I was of eating food.
I had a severe eating disorder, that nearly killed me by the age of 12- and though I tried to get better, what was once a severe neurosis has become, more of a moderate neurosis, with the occasional panic attack over the irrational fear that something I just ate was actually going to poison me- and I am in fact going to die.
This disorder came from a time when I was a very young child and my father poisoned me to punish me, with food. It resulted in an inability to trust people, and all food. The event of tasting death at that young of an age, and being carried to the hospital unconscious (reported by my mother) was traumatic enough that I have zero memory of it at all. It's completely inaccessible, and in fact I would have no idea that hospitalization happened unless my mother told me.
This wasn't my only run in with illness and death. It seems I had a propensity toward it, even as a young child I played with spiders on my hands and had a fascination with them. I read books about them. When my teacher asked me why I was fascinated with them, I said, "because they can kill you with one bite." I considered them my pets and, they never bit me. I took care of them. But, one day that curiosity about nature led me to deaths door, when I stuck my hand down a hole searching for what was in it- and what I pulled out was a snake, wrapped around me wrist and biting my hand. I still have the scar. I was rushed to the hospital again after my mother saw the horrifying sight. I must of been maybe five.
When I was in third grade, I got into a horrible car accident, my family's vehicle was smashed with an actual semi-truck. Eighteen wheeler? Yeah one of those. How uncanny right. My oldest sister went through the windshield. I remember hitting my head, and afterward getting a police escort to school. I remember walking around the school feeling really disoriented, I think I fell asleep. And then later in the evening there was a tornado. And I just thought to myself, "today really isn't my day." While we all piled into the shelter and waited for the storm to pass. The power went out and I fell asleep again.
Also, in elementary school I got a horrible virus. At the time it wasn't well known, but I was very very, very sick. I laid on my couch for ten days, wavering in and out of consciousness. I remember shivering, and then becoming too hot, and then shivering again. And waking up puking. I remember my mom trying to keep my fever down with ice packs and medicine but, nothing was working because I'd just throw it back up. My entire body was covered in a rash, and I came to my mom and said, "what are these dots?" And my mom's eyes got VERY wide and she immediately took me to the hospital. We weren't able to find a diagnosis and I got sicker, and was unable to keep my head up. I was so ill I couldn't stay awake, and I felt truly like I was dying. I lost track of time completely. I felt so, so bad. I actually *wanted* to die so it would be over. I knew, whatever this was it wasn't a normal flu.
And then one morning I woke up and couldn't move. I was paralyzed from the waist down. I tried to get out of bed but I fell, onto the floor. And I just looked at my legs, realizing I couldn't move them at all. It was the oddest, and most frustrating thing. I just felt *nothing* And I yelled at my mom, "I can't get up!!" and at first she didn't understand, thought I was being lazy. Told me to stop being lazy. And I said, "No- I- I CAN'T GET UP!!!!!!" And she came and looked at me and said, "what are you doing" and I'm like, "can you get me off the floor" and so she helped me up and was like, "what are you doing use your legs." And I said, "I can't move them" and she's like, "what do you mean, like they fell asleep? are you playing a game?" and I said, "no I can't walk." and she's like "try to walk" and let go and I fell and said, "can you take me to the bathroom please" lol and of course she said, "we're going to the hospital" and took my temp.
Once again, they didn't know what was wrong. No medications or treatments were working. I was so, incredibly, tired too. My mom continued searching for doctors though, and after going through several, our last stop- they did a spinal tap and ruled out meningitis (luckily) because they SHITTILY told me while they prepared the test- before hand- that I will die in 24 hours if I do have this meningitis thing likely.
And while the doctor left the room for a moment I felt sad about my life essentially being over, I was fucking what, 8 or 9. I said to my mom, "I don't want to die." And started crying, and my mom held me. I thought about the prospect this was the last day I had on this planet, the last time for my mom to hold me.
Then they said, you have this virus, and listed some jumbling of letters and numbers. At the time I guess it didn't have a common name. But now it's known as Acute Flaccid Myelitis https://www.healthychildren.org/English/health-issues/conditions/head-neck-nervous-system/Pages/AFM.aspx
At the time I also was a dancer. I had been since the age of four, as with gymnastics. I also ran track. I loved, what I did. I was good at it, I won all sorts of competitions, and the athletic gene was something that I was gifted with- not just my sister. I won first on floor. First on bar. First on beam. I won solo positions on the dance company, and got to go on tour with the professional adults. I was the youngest in my class to start partnering and pointe, and I was well versed in many different styles of dance by the age of 10. It was essentially my life. I ran track as more of a social outlet with friends at school, but I also happen to win second for our school one year, in long distance. I danced in four different studios in town, and went to many different dance programs and camps. I thought it would be my life for the rest of my life, most likely my career. Every year there was a different solo awarded to me, and I was well liked by the directors. My parents were always busy so I stayed at the school till late in the evenings and danced with the company, or would take classes in lower levels as well. I started to assist teaching the young children too. I did nothing but dance essentially.
It was a little bit lonely on the tour busses but I liked the circus-y life style and was used to being on stage all the time. I really looked up to the girls that were 18, 26, what not. And essentially imagined myself in their place when I got older.
All of that changed though. The same year I was hospitalized with the eating disorder, I also broke my leg, and was diagnosed with a heart problem, known as Paroxsymal Atral Tachycardia. I still chose to go on tour and finish it, despite my leg being fractured in three places- and majority of the "turns" I had to do in the performance were on that foot. My last performance, I fell on stage and then the director finally pulled me from the program and said, "that's it, it's time to stop." And I insisted I could keep going but, he feared I would further injure it, and refused to let me perform.
Unfortunately my health problems didn't stop there. After a year and a half off of dance, when I tried to return my leg was so out of practice, I was taking lower level classes, and spending the "company" class time stretching and doing exercises for my leg- as I was instructed to by the instructors. I had to do a year or so of physical therapy. And still, it never got back to what it was. Never. The arch isn't the same. Which for me, that was a major frustration. And, I even had an instructor who *made fun of the foot* and compared it to a potato. And I cried. LOL I was just a kid.
Around that time I got recruited into my schools theater program, and I thought, "yeah, I could dance for the theater program but- I can't sing or act." I knew what musical theater was of course, but yeah I didn't know I could act. I took the class as I was recruited by the drama director to join, and I thought it would be a good way to make friends at a new school I started at. I was kind of a geek and had like only one friend so I was trying to branch out socially. And after a year studying drama, doing monologues and reading scripts, learning about it and stuff. We also did a lot of improv. I had fun with it, but I still didn't have the confidence or think I was able to act well enough to actually audition for a play or anything like that.
But my friend, she was scared to audition so I in order to persuade her to do it- because she desperately wanted to but, was too scared to- I told her I would go with her to make her feel safe. And I said, "during your audition just look at me and pretend like we're just having a conversation like always. No one else is in the room." And so we went, she did her audition successfully and I clapped for her. I was really excited to uplift other people, that's the kind of person I was. I helped anyone. I had a naturally altruistic personality. Was a good kid.
My friend at the time was suicidal, and I talked her off the brink of suicide once.
