Every bite hurts. Sitting on my bed with my bowl of mashed potatoes, Spaghetti O’s, Cookies,and Ice cream praying my parents don’t come into my room. Praying that it’ll all come back up. That the numbers on the damn scale won’t get higher that they might even drop. As I gorge myself on food my stomach turns. Every bite makes me more and more nauseous all my anger and frustration, all the sadness and depression shown by food.. As sick as it sound I am grateful that I feel sick it make it easier later. Later as I take my nightly shower I will throw it all up every last bit until just water comes out. Then the next few days when I restrict so much that I become light headed.
First time I expressed a hatred for food I was 8 years old. I looked in the mirror as I stripped off my clothes I looked at my chubby child body. I was confused I didn’t look anything like the people on TV. I grabbed the fat on my stomach and sides, Pulled the fat back on my legs to create the beloved “Thigh gap”. That was the first day I started counting calories. I only allowed myself 600 calories paired with ballet lessons 3 times a week. I think this lasted three months.
It was my thirteenth birthday. My dad and I went to a fancy restaurant that served a lot of food. I remember my dress being unusually tight around my midsection after eating. I went to the bathroom and tried to purge only getting a little bit up. I loved it though I loved it so much I was scared by it. I tried a few times after that all at restaurants but was never very successful.
Not much later after that I started researching Pro Mia (bulimia). I found a few websites and tips and at this point I was so beyond help that I don’t think anything could have helped me, Nothing could. I waited till my parent were out of the house. I read that the first time was the hardest so I binged only soft things I even remember what is was, Mash potatoes, Ice cream, Cookies soaked in milk, a loaf of bread, diet coke and chocolate. I stood over the toilet and was so amazed how easily it came up. I did it the next day. And the Next day. And the next.
Then came dance team. I Had no time. But just because I stopped purging doesn’t mean I was healthy, as a matter of fact I NEVER and I mean never had a healthy relationship with food. Then Dance team ended and I picked up the dirty habit again. I have done it three times a week for 4 months and yesterday I threw up blood. I am scared and I don’t know how to stop.