and received a BA from Wilfrid Laurier University. Meredith was known for her involvement in school activities, over the years playing basketball, volleyball, and was on the sports banquet and graduation committee as well as students council. She was known as an organizer.
In June Meredith was accepted with the international group Up With People travelling through much of the US and Europe but due to failing health was forced to leave the program in January. She was involved in the community with Big Sisters and worked for the family business starting at the age of 13.Surviving are father and mother Hunter and Betty Grant (Brockville) and brother Kingsley Grant (Whitehorse). Funeral services will be set for Sunday.Pall bearers are Steve Hook, Scott Giroux, Craig Brown, Joe Haggett and Bob Anderson. Charitable donations to a cause of your choice would be greatly appreciated.
Reflection 2001
What to say? Writing my own obituary. Sad. I can’t believe I felt so desperate although I remember the entry. So much has happened since then; so much life and so much wellness. I am glad this wished destiny did not become my fate. It’s odd because while I mention an illness, I did not acknowledge the illness as an eating disorder. I denied it for a very long time. I felt depressed all the time, numb as though nothing would ever get better. I look back on my life then and people used to say, “You have so much to live for, to be grateful for.” I couldn’t see it. I did not realize at that time that being malnourished could affect how I thought or perceived things. It has since become crystal clear.
Today I cannot imagine writing my obituary. My parents are well, and my relationship with both is amazing. My brother is happily married and has given our family the gift of two very special people: Hunter and Walker. Life since that date has been filled with memories, and had I died I would not have experienced the joy our family feels today.
Today, I don’t fight life, I embrace it.
It’s wonderful.
Journal Entry
November 7th 1992
I saw Steve (family physician) yesterday and my weight was down; while a part of me was quite surprised another said, “Good.” It’s like there was this voice inside of me that whispered, “That’s what you should weigh,” and then even another voice was angry and so frustrated. I want to beat this so badly. It’s as though if I could only “see it” and then fight it, but it’s an enigma: one that I can’t see, hold, feel or touch. It truly is unreal and a distortion.
I get so angry at myself for putting myself here, it’s as though I’m trapped in this thinning mask.
Journal Entry
December 9th 1992
Oh to live a normal life, perhaps for me it is too demanding a request to wish for. Bottom line I probably don’t deserve it. Often I seriously wish I was dead. I so often feel more like a nuisance more than anything else. When I feel like this I usually just shut things off, it’s easier to be numb than to be alert.
Look at the people in Somalia, who get nothing, the sick thing is I like the way they look, plus it stresses the fact to me that I could easily be thinner than I am. I feel so intensely ugly and repulsive.
Words that describe me: don’t fit, ugly and fat, greedy, hurting, worthless, lonely, gross, disgusting, confused, sad, screwed up, numb, nervous and young.
January 12, 2002
Today I sit with over 20 years worth of journal entries that have particular significance, ones that I feel may be of help to others and serve as the foundation of this book. Most of the entries are along the same vein as the ones you have already read. Do I continue with journal entries? I will be honest that I really am not sure where to start. My road to the rainbow has not been as easy as 1+1=2.
Today I reviewed some photographs with my parents, and I could tell how painful it was for all of us to look back on them. It also made me realize yet again the importance of my recovery not only to me but to my family. My life is back, and so is theirs. Even 5 years ago my time with them on vacation would have been dictated by a weigh scale. Today the vacation is filled with wonderful conversation, much laughter, much health and the end result of never having enough hours in the day to do all that needs to be done.
How did I get to this place of health?
Let me tell you first where I have been.
INTRODUCTION IN REVIEW
As I reviewed my words in the introduction I am aware of its simplicity and have been asked why I did not expand on the disease or painful journal entries? A very simple response: a sufferer knows all too well the pain and need not be reminded.
I also have a personal view that sharing too many details on the disease can actually have damaging effects to the reader. Rather than help, it can actually encourage the disease by providing details of how you continued your behaviour. Sufferers will do anything to hold on to the disease, and at all times, on the hunt for any new trick that could possibly improve the end result.
How can that be?
An eating disorder sufferer’s mind is much different than that of a non-sufferer. A non-sufferer may believe that to read the behaviour in detail would be a deterrent to starting the behaviour. Ironically for the sufferer, it enhances it. I know how the mind of an eating disorder sufferer works, thus details are left to a minimum. This book is about recovery from the disease, not the disease itself.
CHAPTER ONE The Pain, The Past
Often people ask, “What made you get or have an eating disorder?” Each person has a different story as to how their eating disorder developed or progressed, which I believe adds to the difficulty in helping those suffering from the disease. For some it is peer pressure or media influence or athletics, but for others it can be a way of coping with abuse: physical, sexual or emotional. Also, divorce or death of a parent, or the breakdown of a relationship can be the catalyst; the list is long. But for sure, an eating disorder stems from something deeper than weight and food. The preoccupation with weight and food are a symptom of other issues.
My first issue was abuse.
I remember being a happy although sensitive kid. My life changed when I was 10 and babysat for a neighbour. I remember feeling very uncomfortable around the father and that he used to touch me in places where I had never been touched before. His words and messages were damaging to me. They killed my self esteem when I was too young to know better. During flashbacks in adulthood, I remembered being told by this neighbour that I was fat and ugly and that anyone of any worth would have nothing to do with me. He became mad at me if I ate anything at their house. I recall him putting my head in the toilet making me be sick to get rid of it. It was a horrible and painful memory to relive but the memories have shed light on my thoughts and subsequent behaviour as I was growing up.
The abuse happened in an era when such things were not discussed, and as a result I kept the abuse a secret until I was 21 years old. Time has allowed me to deal with this issue, but in reality it served as the onset of my eating disorder. The abuse changed how I felt about myself and influenced future relationships for years. The abuse became the root; it grabbed hold. The thoughts and feelings that had developed during the abuse continued to be reinforced.
During
