I began to find food as the source of life at the age of 12. It was a love/ hate affair. I hated to eat because I had been afraid of becoming fat and yet I needed to eat because if I didn’t I would get dizzy and get into fights with people who supposedly cared about me.
This struggle continued from age 12 until the age of 32.
I decided the only way to get over it was to do more. I would show everyone I was strong and that I could do anything. As I continued to do good things for others, I felt great but then that good feeling went away and I was alone and miserable. I needed to pick “do I eat or not eat’?
When I didn’t eat I felt lighter but I also got dizzy and felt from it. As soon as I ate -I picked at my food and ended up eating crap later and off it. I never knew who was actually my friend because there were so many people who treated me badly, teased me, I felt like my life was a joke.
There were points when I decided that I could kick this -I was determined. I realized how miserable I was and decided I had to do something to change that -so I discovered that when I did new and adventurous things I got my enthusiasm and life back. After a while though, the distress came back so I found somewhere else to go.
There were many times when I seriously thought I was going mad. There were times when my friends thought I was suicidal. I decided that it wasn’t safe to share feelings with others because I will get into trouble if I did.
When I sought help I was told that I was “perfect”, that it was “all in my head” or that everyone goes through that. Just eat from all of the food groups.
Finally at age 31 I was living alone -what a blessing -nobody to watch over me, I could do what I wanted. This time I’d be fine -I promised myself. I’d pray -Dear God, if you get me through this I guarantee I will never to do it again. How many times did I break that promise?
My ways of gaining control weren’t working. I’d purchase entire bags of binge foods, take them home and throw them away. I would try to make myself throw up and I couldn’t. There are many others that can do this better. I am such a wuss.
If people really knew how much pain I was in they would freak out. That’s one of the key reasons I could never go through with killing myself. I was afraid of what other people would think of me. Then on the other hand I would think about everything I wanted to do in my life. And the fact that I am so afraid of dying, life and death. Life would be so much better with out food and feelings as well as with friends because then they would not be concerned about me and I would not feel guilty about letting them down. There was no escape now -isolated in my living room dreading my life. I needed to do something …