I was emotionally, financially, and psychologically abused for eleven years as a teenager and into adulthood until almost five years ago.

From age 13 onward “Lard bucket” “the littlest hippo” “a baby tank” are just some of the statements that my family told me about mysef until I was in my early twenties. My brother was told by my father not to date pretty girls, but to date someone more like his sister. My grandmother told me that fat and beauty marks were enough to stigmatize me from society because “nobody likes a fat girl, and you should cut those things off your face.” I wasn't allowed to grow my hair long, and when I threatened to move out from my father's house, stories of what men do to single women in the city were told to me.

I was forced to make my father extravagant dinners which took three or four hours to cook - with heavy cream, lots of cheese, and meats. To bake an endless supply of cakes and cookies. No wonder I was getting so big. It was the only food in the house, and portion sized were noticed. If my dad didn't have noticably more than others he would get angry. Sometimes he would have tantrum because his meat was smaller than someone else's. Meanwhile If I had too much or too little it would be meantioned. He reached 550-ish pounds at his heaviest, and I reached 160 while living under his roof.

Since I also wasn't allowed to get low marks in school with punishment of a large session of yelling about "my only job in the household" I got into a good university. My student loans and all of the money that I made from my weekend and summer jobs went straight to my father. I missed and sometimes failed classes so that my father would have company in the mornings. He would get angrier when he was lonely. Those days were the worst of all because my brother found a way to get out of his chores by quitting school and getting a restaurant job with 12 hour shifts. I didn't have time to learn how to drive, so I carried sometimes ten fully grocery bags home up a hill each week. I wasn't allowed to date, so when I did eventaully find someone who I liked, I had to lie and say that I had a group project to do for school.

This wasn't strict parenting - this was abuse.

Memories like this flood my mind daily. They've made me agoraphobic since when I was living with my dad I was only allowed to go to school and grocery shopping for the most part. Along with the stories of what could happen to women when they walk alone, of course. It has caused me a lot of negativity about my self image, and it pains me to say that it has also caused an eating disorder. My fiance doesn't understand why sometimes I suddenly have a lot of anxiety... it's these memories rattling around. I don't know how to make friends anymore, and despite having a degree, I am frightened of looking for a job.

I can't be my true self.

My brothers ended up with bipolar and depression disorders and are heavily medicated. I went to a psychiatrist and because my anxiety is caused by abuse and not necessarily a chemical imbalance, I am supposed to deal with my problems myself.

I wish that I was a better person. I feel inferior, despite having many talents like cooking, drawing, and an enhanced spatial awareness and imagination.