Bulimia came to me when I needed it the most. It was the release I needed from my fears. It took me by the hand and said “we can keep this a secret.” How does one decide they will eat an overabundance of food then stick their finger down their throat? None of that sounded appealing, but yet it became a part of me. I remember watching a movie and the girl was bulimic. In the end the girl died, but all I saw was a girl who used bulimia to control her weight and then release her guilt. So, there we go, that’s how my mind rearranged things to make sense. I started to “eat my feelings” and then purge them after almost every meal. This all started at the age of 12.
The food was like me telling myself I could do whatever I wanted, and it filled me with good feelings. It started to fill the hole that I was somehow born with. But the purge, OH THE PURGE, that was the control. I controlled what I was doing, I could eat as much as I wanted and I could get rid of it too. In with the good, out with the bad. Each night after dinner I’d slip straight to the bathroom, purge, then brush my teeth.
Bingeing in front of others never happened. I’d wait until my parents went to bed and I’d eat and eat. I could eat pans of brownies and boxes of cookies. The longer I did this the sicker I got. From the age of 12 to 15 this continued. By the age of 15, and after I started my other demons; smoking, drinking and drugging – I told my parents. I told them because I knew I needed help. I only knew I needed help because my parents were good parents, and I lived in a home where these type of strange behaviors didn’t take place. My bulimia and I stayed friends for almost 12 years, until I finally said good-bye.
“Recovery is not where we arrive, but rather a state of being”…….JeanIrvin