If you've read this blog a few times, you'll know I'm bulimic. I fight with it every day, the body image, my relationship with food. Some days are better than others. Some days kick me in the ass.
I try to look at it from an outsider's perspective. How crazy and disturbed would someone have to be to force themselves to vomit up what they eat to stay alive? Yes, a binge is a little more than necessary to sustain normal life, but I have not binged in over a year. But I still purged.
It has been around two or three months since I last purged. And before that, it was not regular. I hope I can keep this up, but it gets so hard sometimes I cannot stand it, and I feel I am falling. I have gained weight, which, surprise surprise, you will do when you are eating and not vomiting after meals.
I have gained so much weight, that it pushes me over the edge of my body image. Its almost as if someone has put me into a fat suit and broken the zipper off, and I can't get out. That is the panic and anxiety I have over the situation.
Last night was bad. I did good throughout the day. If I eat small amounts and still feel hungry, I can push through. But at dinner we grilled out. I ate my vegan burger, along with some macaroni and cheese. I felt full. Stuffed. Just normally so, but literally my arms, legs, stomach, ass, and neck began to swell in my mind. I was becoming more and more unattractive by the minute.
As much as I can call on my rational mind to talk to the other side of my brain, it doesn't work. Irrationality and insanity win out in my case every time.
I did not purge.
And I suppose that is some small victory.
But I want the day to come when I eat a meal, and don't feel the immediate nausea and repulsion that helped me purge in the past.
I don't think it's coming.
1 comment:
I love you, thank you. This sounds like the sort of mantra I should adopt.
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