The Backstory

Readers Digest Version:

My mother neglected me. Not in any severe criminal way, it's just that she was too busy getting high and partying to make sure I had a properly balanced diet. When i was in grade 6 this is what I would eat in an average day: a handful of Honeycomb Cereal (dry), half a can on Tab, half a bag of Cheese-its, a can of Beefaroni. I remember being sick all the time, my hair would fall out, and I was always always tired. I remember a doctor begging me to throw a piece of cheese on some toast or something. Please eat something. He used the word malnutrition. Heh. He probably thought I had a budding eating disorder.

I eventually "ran away", to my grandparents. Food, glorious, food. Not only did they have lots of eat, but they actually ate... meals. Meals yes, but cookies, and candies, and pies and cakes and pasta and cheese and oh my oh my oh my. In 3 months I gained over 30 pounds.

When you're 12 and you spend your days wondering why your mother doesn't love you food becomes your drug. At least if you're me.

I have spent 16 years medicating.