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No one is alone

by Jo

I have spent the last 15 years with only one goal in mind.

To see and feel my bones.

I have destroyed any closeness to my family, lost endless, endless friendships, fucked up relationships, jobs. You name it. I have lied. Constant lies. I have stole. Constant theft. I manipulate. I can twist people very easily and adapt to whatever they want me to be. This is because I have no sense of self. There is no definition in my brain to who I am (as is a trait of people with long term eating disorders). I am aware my behaviours and actions are horrific. However, I still do them. I know deep down I have potential to be a good person. Because I do care. I do feel....not much, but I remember I was a child who had emotions other than hunger, feeling full, and anxiousness.

It's a distant memory....of someone who could have been so different if I hadn't have chosen the route I went down. My whole teenage, twenties, and my whole life, whatever that age may be. All ruined.

All so I can put my hand on my hip bone and feel it jutting out.

It took me until my Late twenties to reach my goal. At aged 28 I weighed barely X stone. Not only could I see my hip bones....but my rib cage poked out of me so badly I couldn't lay on my front to sleep, my favourite way since a child. My knobbly knees would chatter against each other as I desperately tried to feel warmth. Unless you have been that severely underweight I can't explain the constant cold. Your hands and feet are blue. A fine layer of hair grows over the body. You don't feel anything. Your numb. Your not living. It's just surviving meal time to meal time, toilet to toilet to vomit up and sometimes just to hide away and curl up to take ten mins to convince yourself you can face the world and act normally.

So. I had spent my life to reach this weight. It was supposed to be the answer to all my pain. I had spent 15 years stealing, crying, binging, vomiting, starving, lying, hiding, running, fucking up my be this.

And it was hell.
Worse than hell.
Worse than death.

The stares of pity. Strangers walking past you muttering in shock about 'that anorexic girl's legs'. Stares on the tube. Whispers.

At first, I assumed it was jealousy.

Then I realised I was just very very sick.

My desire to be a skeleton will never fade. I see fat on my body and I could scream with hate at the betrayal my body shows me.

I'm ugly. I'm fat, no one should ever like me because I'm a horrible person. I fuck up lives.

And that's how it feels to be me.

I am very very self centred. I believe the world revolves around me, and everyone is out to get me. I can't grasp how other people function in life so easily, and I can't.
This makes me bitter and very very resentful and jealous. It's not fair. How can all these people live so happily and I can't? Why did I have be struck with this disease?

Because it is a disease. I honestly believe I was born with someone wired in my brain to make me prone to this. And I have to believe that everything happens for a reason and someone, anything, will come good of my life.
Unless you are in the brain of someone with a chronic eating disorder you will have NO idea. It's seems so easy, I totally understand how an outsider can be screaming in despair over a friend or relative, 'just eat! Eat and don't vomit, it's simple'

It's not. And one thing I can say, is never ever ever give up. The more they push you away, the more they are screaming for help. The more they revert into their shell and tell you to p*ss off, that's when we need help more than ever. It's a hell of a lot to ask and very few people would have the strength to overcome the hell and stick with them through it.

I wish I had answers as to why and how and when this will end. I wish I had never been born into this. I wish life was simple.

But I believe that we are chosen for a reason, and we are stronger than anyone around long as our hearts are still beating there is potential for us to beat this.

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Article by Shaye Boddington
Author of
and creator of The Bulimia Recovery Program and Community

The Bulimia Recovery Program