Bulimia is like a bad boyfriend.
Charming and confident, it tempted me with empty promises. And like a lonely, insecure, gullible idiot, I let it seduce me.
I lied to cover up our relationship and pushed away others who disapproved. I was hooked by the enticing thrill, the freedom and control and the power that bulimia tempted me with.
Bulimia had me at hello.
Unable to confront and deal with my feelings, I masked my intense fear of change, growing up, failure and facing the world with eating disorders.
I have oscillated between anorexia and bulimia for four years. Anorexia is a slow fade, but each time, bulimia whisks in seemingly overnight.
According to the "MORE to ME" campaign for body image, 40 percent of college girls have some degree of an eating disorder.
If this is you, you understand that, like Alice, we are much too intrigued and charmed by the rabbit to consider that we have no idea about the scary place to which it will lead us or how we will find our way back.
And then we feel trapped inside the looking glass.
Bulimia serves as a crystal barrier, a pretense that distorts all perceptions between sufferers and the world. We fight and we struggle, but we always tire. And bulimia is relentless.
And I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry bulimia relentlessly demanded favor over relationships. I'm sorry I pushed others away when my biggest fear was being alone. I prevented the inevitable by distancing myself and allowing bulimia to strengthen the barrier of the looking glass, separating me from the outside world. You may look but do not touch.
And through the looking glass, we yearn admiringly for the outside world. Although we press our fingers against the pretense and achingly long to participate, we are simultaneously grateful for its separating us into our own isolated comfort zone. Rejection is avoidable because we perpetually reject ourselves.
The constant alienation has caused us to forget the social canons of interacting with others and how to participate.
I'm sorry for us. I'm sorry for when you hate you and I hate me.
What I know is if I ever want to have a relationship, if I ever want to have a healthier self-esteem or be able to face myself in the mirror without disgust, I will need to confront this.
It starts with one decision to stop, but I may need to summon the strength to make the same decision again in an hour, then again in a minute, then again in ten seconds.
I cannot live in the past. In order to make room for the new, I must throw away the old. Yesterday cannot be changed. Yesterday was a bulimic day, but today doesn't have to be. As long as you are breathing, there is a new chance.
I remind myself that I cannot avoid confrontation with an eating disorder.
And realistically, failure is inevitable. Change is inevitable. Life is inevitable. And trying to avoid these with an eating disorder is only temporary. Sooner or later, I will have to face these situations.
And we must say no. No, bulimia, you cannot have today. You cannot have this hour. You cannot have this minute.
You cannot have me.
An eating disorder is perpetual alienation. I am the last person to be giving someone advice on overcoming an eating disorder, but if nothing else, I want you to know you are not alone.
This is what I know: An eating disorder only holds the power you are willing to give it.
1 comments