Not every topic is quick and easy to write about, but this week, is an incredibly important one for anyone who’s had, or known, or loved someone, with an eating disorder. I know it isn’t the lightest subject matter, but sometimes, you need to find strength in your story, so others are able to find theirs. So, let’s talk about Bulimia.
Photo by Dương Nhân from Pexels
It’s easy to think that having an eating disorder is something that could never happen to you. You convince yourself that your brain just doesn’t work that way. When I was in high school, I was constantly sick, riddled with stomach issues. Completely unable to keep down any meal. I’d be fine at first, but after lunch, I’d get up to walk to class, and half way through the hallway, I’d rush to the bathroom because I was just completely, unexplainably nauseous. It was so embarrassing, and I had no idea what to do. I quickly learned how to relax my body just long enough to swiftly walk to the nearest single stall bathroom to throw up whatever I’d just eaten, hoping no one would suspect anything. To be completely honest, it sucked. It sucked ass.
I tried every diet my Nurse Practitioner suggested. Cut gluten, you might have Celiac, cut dairy, you might have an intolerance, white meat and rice, all green vegetables, literally anything under the sun to keep me from getting sick. I had multiple Upper GI endoscopies, sonograms, I even had to eat radioactive eggs so the doctors could watch them pass through my digestive system. Friggin weird.
Finally, I went to the allergist. She pricked me with every possible food and chemical allergy under the sun, up and down both of my arms and my entire back. But, nothing showed up.
Then, she said this to me, “I think it’s time you consider that this might all just be a mental affliction.”
I was dumbfounded. Absolutely not, this is NOT all in my head, I am sick, something is making me sick, how could she even suggest something like that to me? This couldn’t be what she meant. There was no way she just told my mother and I that I had an eating disorder.
Walking out to the parking lot after that conversation, my mom stopped me, looked me in the eye and said, “If you’re making yourself throw up, I’ll find out. We’ll get your teeth checked at the dentist or something.”
That was probably the worst moment of my life.
For the next couple of years, I continued to get sick after eating, or drinking anything caffeinated or with dairy. I couldn’t walk down the street with my friends without gagging and needing to hurl. Nowadays I’m considering getting checked for motion sickness or something. But, deep down, I knew that I was living with Bulimia. I’m convinced that it isn’t self inflicted. I mean, I know it is, I just refuse to accept it.
My story isn’t really meant to inspire, but it is meant to let you know that you are NOT alone. You’re never alone in a struggle like this. It is so easy to feed into the pressure of unachievable societal standards in terms of body image. That’s why it’s so important to embrace every little thing about you, that makes you, you. Yeah yeah yeah, sounds cliché I know, but it’s totally true.
You cannot truly love anything or anyone, until you learn how to love yourself. Once you open that love up inside of you, it gives you the opportunity to fully embrace everything around you.
Confidence in yourself is fucking hard to achieve. But you can do it. I never thought I could, but now I’m one of the most out-there, center of attention seeking people you will ever meet. And I kind of love that about myself?
Don’t get me wrong, some days are harder than others, but it gets better. You just have to believe in yourself, and learn to seek help rather than run from your problems. It’s the only thing that ever helped me. Trust me, it’s much easier than you’d think.
Stay strong.