Today I was reminded that I am slave to food in the way I lust for it, I could not concentrate and I was in a chocolate biscuits, coconut biscuits, custard creams, ginger biscuits, cheese biscuits, vanilla double creams induced haze. My mum is having her friends around this afternoon they should be arriving shortly, they do this thing were they meet every first or second Sunday of the month and this month it is my mum’s turn to host.
Anyway I was helping with the food and as I was emptying packet after packet after packet of biscuits onto a platter I felt this hunger growing inside of me, I could not concentrate it was utter chaos in my head, mum was up and down the house and all I wanted to do was to grab two massive handfuls of those biscuits and a cupcake or two and devour them in my room but my clothes had no pockets and I thought that maybe I could sneak them into my socks or maybe under my armpits. It was all too much I got overwhelmed I didn’t know where to start. In the end I didn’t take or eat anything but I feel a sense of loss like I could have experienced that bit of ecstasy eating affords me but I feel relived at the same time because at least I am not being torn apart by post-binge guilt.
Food excites and saddens me, the thought of bingeing both excites and terrifies me. I am always thinking about food and sometimes I dream of it, I sometimes have dreams of myself bingeing only to wake up and feel so much relief when I realise that it was just a dream. When I dream of these binges I wake feeling full, I know that it’s only psychological but I have in the past punished myself by restricting after a binge dream which is to say the least ridiculous but I don’t know why I do the things I do sometimes.
I feel as though sometimes I don’t actively seek recovery because it’s easier to ”stick with the program”, stick with the known. Who knows what will happen if tried to eat like a normal person, could I end up bigger than I am and end up pushing myself to the edge and eventually off a cliff, maybe if I stick with this way of life I’ll carry on as I have all these years. What I am is a fully functioning bulimic, I don’t want to end up in a worse situation because recovery and the habits that is characterises tends to make me a “worser” bulimic in the way the binges and purges get more frequent and everything spirals out of control.
I can’t remember the last time I cried over having an ED, I get sad and go through the motions of depression, I cry over other things but not the fact that I am a long-term ED sufferer. If I were to start crying I would never be able to stop.