Bulimia

Bulimia. It's a disease. After trying it a couple times, you can't stop. It runs your life and controls everything. It will change you.

And it happened to me.

What causes bulimia? I've wondered this too. Sometimes, I look back and wonder how it happened. For me, I guess stress built up and I needed a way to escape from everything. I needed something that I could do anytime without anyone knowing. Ironically, it caused more stressed than it resolved. It solved the short term stress, but the long term stress that it created was even worse.

It didn't start because I was lonely or needed attention. I have always had everything I needed and more: loving parents, great friends, and a wonderful boyfriend.

My boyfriend was the only person that I had told about this problem. He considered telling my parents, but I begged him not to. He would call or text every night to check up on this problem. After doing this for a couple months, he broke up with me for other reasons, but continued to check up on me. I was devastated at this loss and the bulimia got even worse.

After every meal or snack, I would purge. It would happen even after eating the smallest thing. I never binged, that's really gross.

About a month after our breakup, the bulimia slowed down. Up until last week, I would only force myself to throw up once or twice a week. I just had other things that I would keep my mind on and I wouldn't think about or consider throwing up. My self esteem went up a ton and I was happy. I thought I was almost better.

And then, about a week ago, it got worse. I honestly have no idea what caused it to get worse, but it did I guess. It's 5:30, and I've thrown up twice today. The first time was during school. It was the first time that I had ever done it in school.

What does bulimia feel like? Well, for me. I get this strong feeling of guilt after eating anything. I start to feel horrible about myself. I start to pace, and I picked up biting my nails (which is disgusting). I kneel by the toilet stick my two fingers down my throat, and wiggle them around in the right spot. It all flows out, not in a graceful way, but the way you would see blended up trash going down a sewer drain. Later on, I get horrible stomach pains and I feel like I am going to die (I only started getting this feeling about a month or two ago). It hurts. A lot.

I regret ever starting this habit, and if I could go back and change it, I would. It's an addiction that takes over you life. I doubt anyone will read this ever, and I don't care. It's just a good way to let out my emotions. Like a personal diary. If you're reading this, thank you.