I came to a realization tonight as I inhaled a large pizza, cheesy bread sticks, and a whole 2 liter of soda.
I should stop trying to restrict. I’m too bulimic for anorexia.
I just purged and I feel better than I’ve felt all day, both physically and emotionally.
As much as food might scare the hell out of me, and as much as I hate to eat around others, no one can deny that food has a strong hold over me. I love it and I hate it.
And let’s not even get started on purging. I love to purge. I can’t tell you why because I don’t know. I don’t even need to eat, sometimes I just drink water so I can bring it back up.
Unfortunately, bulimia isn’t a very effective means of weight loss for me. Nor for most people I know with bulimia.
Below is a picture some will find disturbing and others will find triggering. Be warned.
This is what I crave. Why? I’m not sure.
I can’t seem to attain this with bulimia. But I can’t seem to eschew bulimia long enough to attain it.
Perhaps I should resign myself to being bulimic. Perhaps I should accept that I am not going to look like the person in the picture above. And perhaps that’s a good thing. But it feels like a failure on my part.
So I sit here, feeling my post-purge elation, feeling really for the first time today, and I realize that binging and purging is the only thing that brings me out of my crippling apathy at the moment.
I spent the entire day lying in bed and lounging on the sofa trying not to eat, too listless and apathetic to do anything, too flat to try to find enjoyment from anything.
Until I finally caved. And then I felt again. And then I came alive again. Although I hate myself for eating, hate is better than apathy. Apathy gets me in trouble. When I’m apathetic I start making horrible, terrible, self-destructive decisions.
Plus, along with self-hatred, I feel probably as close to happiness as I’ve felt in a while.
So there you have it. I’m just far too bulimic to go back to anorexia.