I’m just sitting here wondering whether I could tell my family that I am bulimic and the answer is NO. Why? because I’m ashamed, It’d be embarrassing to.confess to my mother and my whole family that I’ve been bulimic for years I need them to keep seeing me as just anorexic because I feel it’s not disgusting. How can I tell them I eat until I’m about to burst then purge it all or fast for days afterwards, how can I tell them I have no idea how much I’ve spent on food alone. I simply cannot I made up mind a long time ago that this secret is one I’ll take with to the grave.
I’ve only ever told one person about my bulimia, a friend I met on the internet whom I’ve met and don’t plan to anytime soon, now we constantly chat on whatsapp, this person and I are like-minded it just felt natural to confide in him. I once tried to confide in my mum, this was about 5 years after the onset of anorexia and bulimia with the anorexia being on and off anorexia, Everyone has knowledge of the anorexia but the bulimia is the wretched secret anyway I wanted to ease her into it so I told her about how uncomfortable with my body and how I felt so insignificant I told her how I didn’t understand why I can’t eat like a normal person.. why me… before I could say anything more she got so.angry and told me how she never expected to hear something like that from me since I was a smart girl and that I should know better. What I told her was only the tip of the iceberg revealing anything more was not an option and it hurt me because all I wanted was for her to hug me and tell me everything is going be okay but she didn’t, don’t get me wrong mum is amazing but I guess she was trying the tough love thing because my god she had tried everything she can to help me eat.
My parents have taken me to numerous doctors and all of them said I’m too thin of course I don’t believe them. I wish I could perceive myself the way everyone does perhaps that would jump start my recovery. Perhaps.
I live in fear of collapsing and dying of an Electrolyte imbalance or heart attack or rapturing my esophagaus because I purged too much. My family would never get an explanation. I often feel like I live a double life, raging bulimic by day sweet studious daughter by night. I always feel guilty and I think of my family before each purge I always promise myself it’s the last purge but it never is of course.
It’s amazing how much of a pro I am at rading the kitchen cupboards but make sure it isn’t visible that food has gone missing, to make atters worse mum in all her efforts to fatten me up buys me treats like pies, muffins that I freeze so food that is supposed to last me a week I’ll eat the 5 muffins meant for Monday – Friday in one day.. no one will notice. Wednesdays I go into town and stock up on biscuits,crisps and chocolate which I hide in my room, it’s all very ritual-like… it’s exhausting I don’t enjoy it anymore.
The binges have gotten lighter, thank god! but still I will never confess, this is one aspect of my life (though I feel like it’s not an “aspect” at all it’s my whole life because it consumes me) that is better kept a secret. I’ve already hurt them enough why would I want to hurt them and embarrass myself in the process I’ll dig myself out of this hell hole I always do everything by myself and for myself anyway.