My mom

I miss my mom.  She passed away a couple of years ago due to complications with medicines, back pain, and a loss of hope.  My mom was everything I wanted to be when I was young.  It wasn't until later that I realized that my mom battled demons.

My mother battled a controlled drug addiction.  At one point, it escalated to illegal drug abuse.  She was admitted to several rehabs but the results never lasted.  It wasn't until I was in college when she finally got cleaned. (Praise God!).  She was clean for years until she started experiencing unexplained back pain. 

I am not sure if was the medicine, vanity, or both that made my mom aneroxic.  My mom would eat and then go vomit.  I brushed it off.  I reasoned it was her sickness and the medicine.  It wasn't until later that I realized it was the disease.  This was my first experience with aneroxia and body image. 

My mom was skinny.  I wanted so badly to look like my mom.  I thought she was the ideal woman.  I know now that it was the children size rose colored glasses creating this image.  Being in my thirties, I reflect on my mom's trial and errors with fad diets.  She was always on a diet.  Eating this, not eating that.  Drinking this, not drinking that.  Eat, vomit, eat, take diet pills, and not eat at all.  I remember my mom going for days not eating.  I thought this was normal. 

I tried so hard to look like her that it was my downward spiral in college.  I gained my freshman 15 and my mom said "Wow, what have you been eating?"  Talk about a kick in the gutt.  I had to do something.  If my mom thought I was fat, what does everyone else see.  This reaction kicked off my aneroxia and fitness complusion.