I normally write in my journal, the empty halls of the apartment echoing back at me, even when it is inhabited. Today was a day that happened too often in the past, and rather than writing about it in my journal, I am going to write it here. The goal of my writing is to show the truth.
This won’t be pretty, maybe pretty frustrating, pretty upsetting, and pretty devastating. This is my truth, and I am sure it is the truth of many others.
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I have been rather sad about my teeth lately, perhaps the last time I had white teeth was when I was 12 years old. By then my bulimia had started but it was still beginning. I was still able to sit down and study till I was done, then wait till everyone was asleep and binge then purge again and again for hours, sometimes I would not sleep until 8 am, 8 hours of bulimia.
5 years later I am still in the same boat, just a heavier, more burdened one. No longer do I wait, no longer can I study as I wish. It seems Bulimia now decides everything for me. I came home and found food on the kitchen counter…
— — — — — and this is when Bulimia kicked in, the mood shift came, and I couldn’t write anymore — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
I was supposed to write this piece a month ago, I was all hyped up and ready, motivated by my miserable everyday routine, I am not sad because of my life, my life is cool, it is much better than many, I am sad about my everyday actions, the addiction and mood swings that plaque my existence have made my mornings and night a nightmare. I am going to continue narrating my day as any other day, as it is none but a cycle. I want to point out that I am sharing this not to collect sympathy and support as those things are things that my own family does not succeed at providing me due to a lack of understanding of my situation, but to show whoever is reading this that either that they are not alone, or how people similar to me living. For the sake of showing others that although everyone goes around smiling, it is important to be kind to each person we meet, as we all have issues that plaque our days, sometimes years.
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…and I am overcome by that wave of uncontrollable urge to eat, not hunger, just that binge monster activating. It almost feels like a blackout, like all that internalized anger, sadness, and emotion have come out as an urge to eat. I ate the food that tasted bad, I ate whatever it -the monster- approved of. After I was done, the amount of “relief”, if I were to call it that, was fresh and upon it getting old the sick feeling came and I went to the bathroom to surrender to the inevitable fate. That went on, and on, and on. After one purge I was left on the bed, my heart beating like no other time, my body shaking, acid built up, and tears welling in my eyes. I still had the pressure of having to study for tomorrow’s exam, I still had the chores to do, but all my mind allowed me to do was either stay in bed and feel my body’s breakage, or go another round. One might think I would rest then start up on my duties, but the truth is that after my heart calmed down and my body felt more stable, I made myself some drink that gave me the ability to reach a functioning level, then opened my book and notebook to start studying.
Safe to say that did not work.
The thoughts flooded through my mind and the urge to eat attacked again, fight it, it fights back, sleep, wake up, go into machine mode where you do not even remember when you started to binge but you know you need to purge now, now, now.
The binge-purge cycle begins again.
When I my mind is okay enough to study, I look up at the wall clock and read a number that is greater than 10 pm and know that it is going to be another sleepless night. I finish studying and go to sleep and wake up 3 hours later to go to school, I am dreading today…
-Aimz
