I don't want to die from bulimia...
I'm posting this story because my boyfriend "anonymously" sent me this website. He signed me up for it, using my e-mail address and name...This is my story:
I've been battling bulimia a little over 10 years now. I'm 25 years old.
I was always a heavy-set child growing up. So was my older brother, but he was very popular, because he was outgoing and funny and charismatic. I was shy and anxious and reclusive. The only time the "popular" kids talked to me was to ridicule me, or copy my work. My school was K-12, so I pretty much went to school with the same kids my entire elementary/middle/high school career.
When it came time to enter 9th grade (I was 13 yrs old), my best friend and I decided to start diets. My parents bought a treadmill and I was doing very well. I was eating healthy, and walking at least 2 miles a day. I managed to drop from about 170 to 140. However, after several months, my weight plateaued and I wasn't losing as much. This is when my first dealings with anorexia came in. I had been so used to seeing lbs drop, that when they didn't, I would skip meals. This quickly got out of hand. One day, I was laying out by the pool with my friend and my mom...I hadn't eaten anything in 3 days. I got up out of my lounging chair to walk inside and upon standing up, felt dizzy and weak. I murmured something about being hot and then just fainted right there on the pavement. My mom jumped out of the pool and grabbed me and pulled me inside. She had an inkling of what was going on, because when I came to, she made me eat. I thought I had been hiding it so well. I would get a bowl and fill it partially with milk, and pour a few pieces of cheerios in it, then put it in the sink, so she would think I had eaten a bowl of cereal. I was becoming dangerously good. However, after this incident, my family paid extremely close attention to make sure I ate. This is when my friend suggested we start trying to vomit after eating. I can still remember that first day...we were in my kitchen, and had just eaten Triscuits and Cheez Wiz...we then walked out to my driveway and both tried to make ourselves throw-up into the grass. Neither one of us were successful. However, over the next year or so, I managed to figure out the "art" of binging and purging, and I guess you could say the rest is history.
Since then, it has been an ugly battle. There's been days when I would purge 2, 3, 4 times a day. I've lost my human notion of simply knowing how to eat. My perception is that I have to stuff my body with as much food as possible (even up to 5,000-7,500 calories a day), and then just rid my body of it. It has absolutely ruined my life. I gag constantly, my metabolism is non-existent, my body-image is terrible, and I'm ruining my relationships. Realistically, my BMI is normal...I'm 5'6" and weigh X. However, looking in the mirror, I feel like a whale. I use my scale to keep me some-what realistic. If you were to take my scale away, I would have a massive panic attack.
My boyfriend, whom I want to spend the rest of my life with, signed me up for this website. It is so incredibly hard for people not inflicted with this disease to understand it. I'm hoping that by reading everyone else's stories, I will learn some coping mechanisms to help me deal with this debilitating disease. If not, then my days are surely limited...
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