ED – Camp

I was laying out earlier, and something in the air just reminded me of camp…it could have been the whole hot sticky sweaty thing.

It made me sad because the first memories that come to mind about camp aren’t ever the good ones – not that there was anything bad about camp, I absolutely loved it; I loved it as a camper and I loved it when I worked there.
But it just reminds me of the fact that even in the midst of my favorite place to be, I was still desperately sick.

I remember how “concerned” the staff were, because I refused to eat.
I remember having to sit next to my counselor so she could watch me eat – because the other girls would happily eat my food for me if I could get away with it. I remember sitting in the cafe, long after every one else had left, because I wasn’t allowed to leave until I ate. I remember faking it. I remember running to the bathroom and crying the few times they managed to get me to eat (they eventually banned me from the bathrooms in the cafe because they thought I was making myself throw up – but I wasn’t, really).
I’d try to get away with eating no more than a salad (if lettuce and ranch counts as a salad), but you were lucky if I even ate that – most days I just drank water.

I was constantly lectured, they repeatedly threatened to send me home – but, I knew they wouldn’t actually do it.

It never occurred to me that anything was wrong with me, nothing Lauralee or Kim ever said to me ever really made any sense…I heard them and I understood them, but it just didn’t seem to apply to me. I never really comprehended that part…and I guess I still don’t.
I didn’t make the connection between what I was doing, and what they were telling me I was doing. I didn’t think they were the same thing.

They were.
Still are.