Hi, my name is Zoey, or atleast I wish it was. Point is, I wanna be anonymous so I'm not revealing my real name. Not because I'm afraid of what others might think of me, but to protect my sisters and my dad from society's gossip.
I'm 24 years old. And that's actually true. Last week I admitted to myself and to my sisters that I'm bulimic and now I'm starting the journey towards getting healthy. I am still under the impression that it takes a bulimic to understand a bulimic, or anyone with eating disorders to understand what another person with an unhealthy relationship to food is dealing with, but I wanna believe that there are nice and healthy people out there that wanna help out, and with this belief in other's will to understand and to help I'm going to get help.
Everybody's stories are different, but somehow it always comes down to the same root to identify the problem: Your negative self-image. My story is long...
I'm a 5'3 ft 132 lbs person that's been athletic all my life and I basically carry muscles and saturated fat. I see myself as a girl with a pretty face, dimples, light brown shoulder long hair, big dark green eyes and skin that tans easily, but trapped in a masculine body. I wanna be feminine so that the guys I'm attracted to will be attracted to me too, so that I can build the bright future I see myself in, with a husband, beautiful healthy happy kids, a house, a car, a cat, a job that I like going to and dedicating to something we're all passionate about, like sports. And going on summer vacation with common friends!
I was liked in high school. I hung out with the cool crowd, nobody could ever find it in their hearts to hate me. I was good friends with everybody; the girls never saw me as any threat and I was just one of the guys. But I wanted to be feminine. I wanted to be the hot chick my guy friends would drool over just by confidantly walking by moving her hips sensually in her tight jeans. I started sleeping around with any guy that wanted to sleep with me, as if i was a slut. But in reality I just wanted to be loved. It often happened when we were all hammered and as fun as it was at the time, the day after you just felt like it wasn't worth it. Even if I didn't really like the guy I just wanted to be confirmed as a woman. But I never was, cause they would all feel bad the day after because they slept with me. ME! I was one of them...
When I was 20 I went to London. Stayed at a youth hostel and met alot of cool people from all over the world. I met this really cool dude from CA. His name was Jonathan and he was a 19 year old surfer. He was totally hot, real fit, about 6'2, 180 punds, nicely tanned laid back kindof dude, although constantly wasted. Anyway, to make a long story short, I slept with him, and he said he thought I was so sexy as we were doing it. He made me feel feminine, someone that wasn't just "one of the guys" and "everybody's friend but nobody's girlfriend". I was so happy and I know now I fell for him, eventhough I never wanted to admit it after we woke up the day after, cause then he just bailed on me.
I talked to him on MSN after I got back home, and this is when he tells me what I knew about myself but never had anybody say it to me straight out: I'm not attracted to you, you're too heavy. The shame that I felt as I read those words is not comparable with any type of shame I've ever felt in my whole life. I didn't know what to type, so eventhough I wanted to speak with him and make him like me, I just logged off. I couldn't bare myself to say anything to him because I felt so powerless and so ashamed. I had failed. As a woman, as a person, as being attractive... I had failed. I locked myself into the bathroom and weighed myself, which I hadn't done for a long time. 140 pounds. I was chocked and I understood exactly what he meant. I wasn't angry with him, I was angry with myself, because I had lost all control over myself. Too much keg, too much fast food and eventhough I exercise it doesn't compensate the intake of calories. I wanted to drop 30 pounds. Like RIGHT NOW! I knew I wasn't capable of throwing up, I had tried it before but my fingers were too short. I remember looking down at the wash basin, where i keep my tooth brush... thinking what if... yea.. that might help. So I grabbed my tooth brush quickly, opened the toilet lid, and started tickling the back of my throat with it until i got sick. It worked! And I couldn't believe how easy it came. So I did it again, puked some more and then again and again and again, until I could feel my stomach was empty enough. I weighed myself again: 138 pounds. That's still alot, but I dropped 2 pounds just by doing that! Tomorrow I'll get to the gym, make sure to burn atleast 1000 calories and that way I'll drop another 2 lbs !! Before I know it I'll make it to 110 quickly.
That's how it all started for real. I've always had a disturbed relation to food, one day I starve myself and the next day I over eat. But since I got bulimic I allowed myself to lose control over what I ate, cause I was getting rid of it anyway. Either by puking or by consuming X-lax. I never made it to 110, I've always stopped at 120, and returned to be over 130 again. I never got back to 140 luckily, it's over-weight, but I kindof feel like i should drop another 10 pounds to be happy with myself.
Bulimia is a psycological desease that has its roots in your self-image, how you picture yourself. For some it's about taking control, for some it's about anxiety, for some it's because they "know" they'll be loved if they get skinny, for some it's about turning into something else, and something better, for some it's about punishing themselves... for me it's been about all those things. Now I know that getting skinny is not gonna make me happy unless I sort my issues out. We all just wanna be happy, that's the meaning of life. Why are we here? What are we fighting for? We're all gonna pass away sooner or later (touch wood) so what's the point if we don't make the best out of life, find a balance, be happy with who we are and surround ourself with the people that we love? I'm not there yet, but I'm gonna get help soon. Not only for myself, but for the people that are surrounding me and actually love me.
So let's call this day 1. I got sick today too, but this is the first entry and the first step to getting well. By keeping this diary and sharing my recovery with everybody. I'm totally scared, I don't know how I'm gonna make it, I need to puke, it's a routine I've got! It's my way of keeping my calorie intake under control! It's been my ways for the last 5 years, so how am I gonna stop? I'll let you know as time passes by.
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