Wow.

Yeah, man...
http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/07/20/tf.mom.me.lose.weight/index.html?hpt=Sbin

Bottoms Up

Forgive me this moment of self-indulgence. Recovering from an eating disorder has got to be harder than being a recovering alcoholic. That probably sounds unintelligent and self-serving, and I guess it is. But you don't need alcohol to survive. If you stop drinking, you don't have to keep drinking...just not too much or too little.

However, with food...you kind of do need it to survive. You can't just stop. And with an eating disorder, it is a daily, hourly, minute-ly (ahem) battle with a) if you are eating; b) what you are eating; c) how much you are eating, etc. You can't escape it.

I had a stomach bug last week and threw up once. It was the first time in over 6 months that I had vomited. And it was involuntary, honestly. And yet, I still felt a warm sense of happiness wash over me when it happened. I have realized over the past week that with the help of meds and time, I do not have the strong desire to purge any more. That is an accomplishment. Yet, I still fight a daily battle between not eating enough and eating too much.

I used to wish to be anorexic (rather than bullemic). I coveted the willpower it took to simply not. eat. food. I guess that's just not my brand of crazy, though...I was never any good at it. I still have that thought flash through my head at times. And I am still no good at not eating.

So, I do feel that I am "better" in a sense, but the reality that I must accept is that I will live with this for the rest of my life to some degree.

Starting....Now.

I have done nothing but eat for the past week. And how! Junk, junk, junque!!! It has been disgusting, and I have probably put on at least 8 pounds (in two weeks, I'll say). However, through the magic of prozac, I am secure in the fact that I will regain ground quickly and get back into my healthy eating routine. And, truly, I want to. I feel gross.

Where to Begin

I have a lifetime of neuroses to regurgitate. I don't know how to start. Maybe I'll start in the middle and then pick it all apart. Again, having no formal therapy on the subject, I'm not actually sure how to address myself. I don't like saying 'I have bullemia,' because I think that it is less something that I have and is more something that I am. But I really don't like the sound of 'I'm bullemic.' I just don't like the word. It's not pretty.

And then where do I even fall into that? I'm a recovering bullemic? I'm a bullemic on a break? A bullemic once removed? Will I ever not be bullemic, even if I am not practicing? I don't know.

Here's what I do know. I don't remember exactly how old I was the first time I made myself throw up. I was old enough to know exactly what I was doing, so 13 or 14. I knew what bullemia was, and I was desperate to try it. When I was finally successful, I was ecstatic. And then, I really just flirted with it on and off. A few times, here and there, in high school, and even less in college. Thinking back on it, I really think that some part of me assumed that I would become a full-fledged, card carrying bullemic when I went to college. But it didn't really stick then either. Maybe I liked myself just enough to keep it at bay? Maybe I was just terrified of losing my teeth?

It took until I was 30 for it to rear its ugly head again. And I let it fully envelop me. And I couldn't stop. For nearly two years.

Now, I haven't thrown up in three months. A victory, for sure. But I fear that it is just below the surface, waiting for a weak moment to resurface. So I am here to process, to confess, and to recover myself.

Catharsis

I have an eating disorder. Probably more than one. I have not yet sought help in the form of therapy, but am currently on medication that is helping me keep things under control. I need a way to get my thoughts out of my head and hopefully worked out. Therefore, hello Internet, mind if I sit on your couch and spill my guts*? Oh yeah, and I am over 30. This isn't going to be your normal blog.

*Under the circumstances, I realize that this phrase was probably not the best choice of words.