Sunday, June 09, 2013
I was writing this for my "Recovering from Eating Disorders", but I thought it would be more beneficial for me if I wrote it here instead (and maybe help even one person)
I am a recovering bulimic (and somewhat anorexic) person. I have struggled with this since I was 18, and I am now 61, and still struggle with it now. After all a person needs food to live. I turned to food because it helped me feel good, for it would not hurt me (would not abuse me physically, tell me I was worthless, I could never do anything right, tell me I was so stupid, compare me to others, yell at me, or call me names). After feeling guilty, because I thought I caused the problems and telling myself "if only" I would have done this or said that, it never would have happened. So I would turn to food, eat, and eat until I made myself sick. It was the only way I knew how to cope with all of the hurts. Then I would purge, actually thinking I was throwing away my problems by throwing up. But then I would feel guilty, because I realized I did it again (the eating and purging) so it would start all over again. I even took laxatives, and fluid pills trying to lose, trying to get thin, because I thought if I did I would be perfect, thinking if I was, no one could ever tell me all those terrible things.
When I was 35, I was finally able to admit to others and to myself that I even had this problem, because I thought I was "hiding" it really well. But not hiding it from my neighbor good enough. One day, she noticed how yellow I was getting, so she took me to the hospital to get checked. Eventually the Dr. told me that my potassium level was so low, I could have eventually killed myself. He put me in the hospital, and finally I had to tell others what was going on. Boy did I feel like a failure, disappointing my friends, loved ones, except my husband at the time. While I was in the hospital, he came to tell me that he didn't love me like a wife, but as a sister, especially after this, and because I could not give him his own children. I cannot describe how I felt, except feeling "if only" I could have kids, he would still stay with me. After getting a divorce, this vicious cycle with food went on and on for many years. Finally I went to a clinic in CA. and finally realized what a terrible problem I had. The clinic helped a lot, but a lot of it was work I could only do. I had to learn different ways to cope with things so I would not turn to food.
Even now, after years and years, I still fight off the temptations. When I am feeling down and depressed, I want to turn to food for comfort, but I know if I do, it would be the worst thing I could do to myself. So I struggle with it each and everyday. When I feel down or depressed about something, I have had to learn how to deal with it differently, and that is still very hard at times. It would be much easier to deal with it by turning to food. Because after all, doesn't food make me feel better?