(Wrote this post last night couldn’t post because my Internet went crazy)
Well its official winter is here, it’s freezing out. I especially hate these leather sofas in the winter because it feels like you’re sitting on a block of ice, it helps to put a blanket then sit but still hate these sofas. All this cold never and has never stopped me from eating ice-cream, just had a cup! I ate breakfast lunch and a fatty supper, had calorie rich coffees and hot chocolate throughout the day. I feel like a giant especially after devouring a packet of biscuits and half a giant-sized chocolate croissant in bed last night, I panicked and went into “this food has got to go so it won’t trigger me tomorrow mood” so I ate it all, woke up full then ate again. On the upside at least mum saw me actually eat breakfast today. She always says “I buy those muffins you like but I’ve never actually seen you eat one, do you throw them away when I am not here?” No mum I binge on them like an animal… but I could never tell her this of course.
Mum accepted a long time ago that I have certain things I won’t eat, before she used to argue with me and try to convince me to drink regular coke instead diet, drink tea with milk instead of without etc, she would always say people who need to lose weight do that, you don’t need to lose weight you actually need to gain so please just eat what a normal person would eat. She then stopped trying to convince me to eat what she thought I would then she started buying me what I wanted and that was great for a while, still is actually in a way.
There is a section in the fridge sorely dedicated for storing “my foods” and a cupboard as well, nobody is supposed to eat that food except me it’s sort of an unspoken rule. this careful managing of my eating disorder makes me so ashamed because, nobody in my family knows I am bulimic, I have mentioned this in previous post my family thinks I am/was an anorexic who relapses often so they have to keep me in check by making sure I don’t relapse again. So I am ashamed of the fact that I buy binge food then come home and eat it all and never touch the food at home that I don’t eat so they worry I am starving myself, give me lectures when my belly is about to explode from surfeiting myself or about to pass out from puking so much. I try to cover my tracks by making food disappear, feeding it to the dogs but apparently I am not so good at it. If I cover up too much by making food disappear too fast I am afraid I will be found out, which is ridiculous because nobody has a clue I am bulimic, they wouldn’t.
That’s the thing about being a closeted bulimic so to speak, you’re always so paranoid, “I have to hide these chocolate wrappings because if anyone finds them they’ll out two into together” – that kind of thinking. You’re always busy worrying about losing control and bingeing then you binge and you worry about purging.. if something will go wrong then you worry about the post-purge clean up, everything has to look clean… normal, then you worry about the food wrappings… how to get rid of them, then you start getting dizzy from dehydration… you worry, then you worry about how much you’ve gained from bingeing by the time you lay your head on your pillow you’re exhausted from abusing your body and the lies you’ve told all day.
Tomorrow and the day after is the same but I believe cycles can be broken, I have recently started to believe so I didn’t. Breaking the cycle by way of conditioning. I believe you can never scare yourself into recovery, that never worked for me. Purging blood knowing I would die if I didn’t stop did not make me recover, of course in that moment I swore to myself that I would never ever purged but a couple of antibiotics later and healed throat I was back on my knees purging. So conditioning your mind, your body by eating the same foods over and over to the point where you don’t feel the need to binge and purge anymore. When all is said and done everything goes back to the same point, EATING.
Food is indeed a drug, I can go for two days without eating but the moment I eat something it’s as though this beast is awakened and I have to eat everything. Quod me nutrit me destruit- what nourishes me also destroys me. Food is a wonderful thing but to me it’s my enemy and my best friend at the same time. An eating disorder isn’t just about food but truly sometimes it feels like that’s what it’s all about. It is very tiresome. It’s like getting on a roller coaster and never coming off it.. ever because you can’t “quit” you need food to survive.
Food is a drug and I am an addict.