What TRULY started as a legit SNACK,

Ended in a typical B/P.

Fuck.

I had the Munchies late last night, and the ONLY thing we had in the House were these Gourmet Chocolate Bars I’d been hoarding in the Freezer.

And this AMAZING new Cool-Whip that JUST came out.

THIS SHIT IS CRACK.

No lie.

I literally eat it out of the tub with a spoon when I want a little sweet snack!

Last night,

I was DREDGING chunks of my Chocolate Bar IN the Cool-Whip!?

SO good!

TOO good.

After I’d eaten the ENTIRE Bar before I’d realized it,

I continued to be a complete Pig, and eat the remaining creamy deliciousness straight out of the tub.

Really!?

With my index finger as a spoon.

Swiping it.

And swirling THRU the fluffy goodness of Cookies-n-Cream.

Gone.

By THAT point, I KNEW what what going to ensue.

Whether I liked it or not.

I brewed a hot cup of water with my Keurig.

To “melt” the frozen Chocolate I’d just inhaled.

I sat patiently,

Watching the News on the T.V.

Trying to force myself NOT run straight to the Bathroom, and puke it all back up.

It IS truly a fucking BATTLE in my Brain.

And IT always wins.

Always.

No matter how much time ticks by.

I stretched my legs.

Drank some more Hot water.

Slipped quickly and quietly into the Bathroom.

Shut and locked the door.

Turned on the faucets.

Flipped the toilet seat.

And proceeded to QUIETLY throw up any remnants of Chocolate, Cool-Whip, and alllll the hot water I had just ingested cruelly.

As to NOT wake my sleeping Husband.

NOT an easy feat for most purger’s.

But for ME?

Sometimes, to be honest,

One quick jab to the ‘ole Tonsils,

And the rest is all Ab work.

Gross.

Sorry.

He WAS snoring when I last checked.

I felt like a sneak.

A PROUD sneak.

My stomach churned violently.

Loudly protesting the fact that I’d taken “precious” Nutrients from it’s only food source.

Yesterday,

AND the day before?

Super, super, super,

LOW Calorie days.

Like, SUPERRRR low.

NOT bragging,

JUST stating.

IT is what it is.

These are quickly becoming my favorite days.

You get a “high’.

Insane Energy.

I’d eaten some Pineapple earlier in the evening-

Thus, I stopped my Purge cycle as SOON as I spotted it-

Floating haphazardly among the dark angry river of Chocolate.

Just….

Sitting in the Toilet Bowl.

With a nice foamy twist.

The Cool-Whip was a nice “carrier”.

Almost better than Ice-Cream!?

Who knew!?

I cleaned the Bathroom efficiently.

Throughly.

Washed up.

Brushed my teeth.

Changed into my Sweat’s.

I peeked out the Bathroom door.

NO sign of getting nabbed in the act.

Can you imagine?

I’d be mortified.

MORTIFIED.

I can’t even stand having my Husband see me barf when I’m SICK!?

Yikes!

I return to the Couch,

Tucking myself into a nice cozy sleep,

For a few hours.

Tomorrow I’ll surely PAY for tonight’s havoc.

Sore throat.

Swollen glands.

Tonque Ulcers.

It sucks.

BUT not enough to deter me from using this as a “Coping” skill, ok!?!

Sorry.

I haven’t found ANYTHING that matches it’s “soothing” properties.

Weird, right?

Vomiting is NOT usually referred to as SOOTHING.

Lol.

But it IS.

I can’t explain it.

I COULD try,

But I’m not sure I could get past the SHAME of it,

To REALLY try.

I’m sorry.

For THAT,

I truly am.

I need to rest.

My eyes are heavy.

Stomach empty and grumbling.

I will NOT feed it again for awhile,

So, tough shit, Bellllyyyyy!

I can feel my Heart pounding in my Chest.

I take a few 5-count Yogi breath’s to calm it.

Pulling the Quilt up and over my Head,

I shut out tonight’s shameful act of Inadequacy.

Fear.

Anxiety.

The nagging voice of reason.

Not this time, Buddy,

Not THIS time.

I win.

Not YOU,

You piece of shit “Body”!

You UN-deserving,

UN-lovable…

“Thing”.

A Creature…..

It’s own entity.

A Monster, really.

That’s what I honestly feel like when I am IN the moment of a B/P.

One who doesn’t recognize itself.

It scares me.

It would scare YOU, too, I’m sure.

Listen.

I’ve gotten quite the backlash for a few of my most recent Blogs.

Guess what?

I really don’t care.

DON’T read them.

I don’t write them for you.

Or for “shock value”.

Attention.

Pity.

THAT is NOT why I let you see a TINY piece of what I experience.

THIS is my way of getting it out.

By writing.

This is a 30-year,

Pent up Caged Bird.

Wanting to break free.

FREE.

So, WHY?

Why DO I give you a glimpse into the most vulnerable part of my life?

Exactly what is stated above.

Hits it right on the nose.

Oh, you’re “Concerned”?

Worried?

Scared.

Welcome to MY chaotic world.

One that spins faster than I want it to.

It has it’s own agenda, leaving me racing to catch up.

NOW is NOT the time to become my Parent.

Or Best Friend.

Because quite honestly, I REALLYYYYY could have used it years ago.

YEARS.

I’ve fought this on my own for a long time.

I can get through another bout of this shit-storm.

Always HAVE.

Always WILL.

End of story.

It’s true.

And so began an Insidious War within.

Against my Body.

My Mind.

And at times,

My Soul.

My BODY?

A never ending fierce battle of what it truly is.

A Mirror is my distortion.

My MIND?

A voice,

That damn ED VOICE!

Taunting me of the things I DON’T deserve.

Food.

Love.

Life.

My SOUL?

A violent tug-of-war between my Heavenly Father.

And the Father of Lies.

Intertwined.

My feet are in both realms.

Stuck stubbornly in Quicksand.

Each struggle pulling me deeper and deeper.

Until I am just left standing.

MY head barely above ground.

Silently.

In horror.

*B/P= Binge/Purge

I was asked to honestly explain a Binge.

And then what, where, and WHY purging is my only option after eating TOO much.

I figured the BEST way to describe to you, is to write immediately AFTER a B/P.

I couldn’t B/P as much as I would have today, because I was with my Husband.

Very rarely will I ever purge when I’m with other people.

I’ve learned my lesson from past behavior.

The acidic stench of vomit is hard to hide from others.

The red, watery eyes.

The red, raw, and sometimes bleeding, knuckles.

Raises a lot of questions.

I used to carry a little “Kit”.

A Toothbrush, Toothpaste, Mouthwash, Mints, Gum, etc.

Good God.

So no, I will never B/P with other people present.

It’s a very private thing for me.

Always has been, and will continue to be.

My Husband ran to the Grocery Store.

I chose to stay home.

Why?

Because an un-opened bag of Cheese Popcorn sat on the kitchen counter, calling my name.

Softly at first, and then screaming louder, and louder, until I couldn’t take it anymore!

I ripped that bag open and for about 10 minutes, inhaled the ENTIRE contents of that buttery, salty, and melt-in-your-mouth Cheese Popcorn.

Shoveling in handful after handful.

Not enjoying or feeling anything at that point except for the dirty aftertaste of Shame.

Discust.

Shock…..

After realizing just how MUCH food you just consumed.

Embarrassment.

An uncomfortably bulging belly.

Overwhelming fullness.

And dread.

Of doing what you despise but crave at the same time.

It’s time to now get rid of the evidence of your discusting habit.

I shut the Bathroom door.

Turn on the sink faucets.

Not too hot and not to cold.

I need to be able to rinse my fingers, hand, face, and mouth in between intervals of purging and chugging as much water as I can, bringing everything up more effectively.

Consistently.

A typical Binge will usually end with a half-gallon of Ice-Cream.

Produces a much smoother Purge.

Gross, I know.

But but after YEARS of being an experimental Purger, you unfortunately become more experienced.

You learn what you can and can’t eat due to how uncomfortable the aftermath is.

Trust me, when I say that BREAD is one of those foods.

Even WITH Ice-cream.

That shit turns into HUGE wads of dough.

Getting stuck in your chest and throat, like a backed up Sewer.

I’ve actually choked once while vomiting.

Scared me.

Definitely NOT one of my favorite foods to throw up.

Blech.

No, thanks.

I flip the Toilet Seat and Lid.

Listening to it loudly bang hard against the porcelain tank backing.

Thunk.

I grab a Butt Wipe, erasing any remnants of someone’s, who will remain nameless, piss.

Maybe a stray pube.

LOL.

Sliding slowly to my knees,

I stare dejectedly into the Toilet Bowl.

Debating whether or not I REALLY want to do this.

I don’t have to.

But I want to.

NEED to.

OR,

I could just be like everyone else.

Silently and sadly utter the words “Fuck it!”

Plop my fast-growing fat ass on the couch.

And ACCEPT the fact that THAT shit is going straight to my Belly.

Or my Ass.

And that I DON’T care.

It’s FAT seeping into every pore and fat cell.

Super gluing it’s discusting existance to my Body like a sponge soaking up a lake of spilled water.

Greedily.

Hungrily.

But I can’t.

I just CAN’T.

I’m ALREADY fat.

And I DON’T want to get FATTER.

No.

N.O.

Without a second thought, I quickly slip the first two fingers of my right hand, down the back of my throat.

As far as they will go.

I gag a few times.

My fingertips graze the little flap of skin above my tongue.

I jab it a few times.

Timidly at first, and then in desperation.

Hard.

And then harder….

As hard as I can without seriously injuring myself.

Which in all honesty, I HAVE done.

Scratching my Throat so badly that I got an infection.

NOT cool.

I blink.

Watching a thick wave of half-chewed popcorn, water, and Bile splash into the Toilet.

Pouring a cascade of turmoiled emotions,

Begging to be freed from their dark and dank prison.

I stop to rinse my fingers.

Moving quickly between the sink and the toilet, as to NOT drip puke onto the floor or rug.

I continue to repeat my Ritual.

Over and over again.

Until the insanity stops as abruptly as it began.

Because there is nothing left to give.

My stomach is knotted.

Sore.

Empty.

E.M.P.T.Y.

I shakily stand.

And wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

Smeared blood.

Great.

I rinse my mouth.

Brush my Teeth.

Change my shirt.

Droplets of vomit adorning your clothes isn’t that attractive.

At all.

Nor is the stench that seems to linger around.

No matter WHAT you do.

Even IF you’ve scrubbed your hands with the nicest and strongest smelling soap you can find.

I wash my face.

Use Visine.

Re-apply my Mascara.

I quickly wipe down the Toilet.

Sink.

The floor.

Erasing any evidence showing just what I am truly capable of.

10 minutes have passed since my Husband left the House.

I survey the Bathroom.

It looks exactly how it did before I started.

WITH an added pleasant Lemon scent, I might boast, thanks to the Clorox wipes.

Good.

I scan my blotchy and flushed face in the Mirror.

My eyes are still a little red.

Watery.

I smile.

Wiping the tears slipping from my eyes.

I feel like a Failure and a Winner at the same time.

I am ashamed.

I have to pretend this never happened.

Or the uneasy feelings that come with it.

I need to shove it as deep down as I possibly can.

I flip the Bathroom light switch off.

And go greet my Husband who has just arrived Home.

He has conveniently….

Brought home Dinner.

Lovely.

THIS is happening.

Right NOW.

I am scared shitless.

And NO way of getting “rid” of it.

I have to force a smile and be brave.

Pull up my BIG Girl panties.

Is size 6 considered big?

After this ENORMOUS Ice-Cream Cone, I will now be the proud owner of size 20’s.

Not to shame anyone who IS.

Girl-Scouts Honor.

I feel H.U.G.E.

And I want to throw-up.

BAD.

And I CAN’T.

Like, I literally CAN’T.

I am with my Husband.

Ever been trapped in an Elevator?

Yeahhhh.

NOT fun.

In fact, it sucks.

Yep.

AND….

I look 9 Months Pregnant.

I’m NOT joking.

That’s how distended my Belly is.

AND looks.

No lie.

Every time I eat.

WTF!?

It’s VERY attractive.

I’m sure it IS for someone who ACTUALLY is.

NOT so cool when you’re NOT.

Embarrassing.

Uncomfortable.

Unacceptable.

Especially for ME,

As a Woman.

Siiiigh.

U.G.G.G.

I want to cry.

THIS?

This is the life of someone with an Eating Disorder.

Welcome to MY Hell.

Every.

Day.

I am Hungry.

Like, REALLY hungry.

I want to eat.

But then again, I don’t.

I can’t.

Well, I COULD, I guess.

I have only eaten 1 small Meal in the last 2 days.

So, I don’t really WANT to eat.

I am almost sorry that I ate yesterday.

I like the feeling I get when I don’t.

Yes, my stomach can feel like it’s eating itself at times.

Like right now.

But then, for every hunger pang I DO feel,

The more satisfaction I get.

Emptiness.

Racing Energy.

Lightness.

When I look down, and see all of this discusting FAT covering my Body,

I KNOW that I am making the right decision.

So, you see?

I CAN’T eat.

If I DO, I WILL just get fatter.

And fatter.

And FATTER.

It just needs to go away.

FAST.

Now.

My only saving Grace is that I KNOW that the days WILL pass quickly.

Hunger will mount.

It will be hard to ignore at times.

But it IS doable.

Water is good for THAT.

Coffee, too.

Yesssss.

I DO love my Caffeine.

Pushes me beyond my “normal” energy levels.

Energy falters when you’re NOT eating.

“Food is Fuel”……

Yes, I’m well aware.

Doesn’t mean that I’m going to eat.

I just….

Can’t.

I won’t.

This is what having an Eating Disorder is like.

There is this angry bitter voice….

ALWAYS chirping in the back of your brain.

Hissing that you can’t eat.

You’re not allowed.

It smirks at your reflection in the mirror.

Screams at you that you’re Fat.

Ugly.

Worthless.

I’ve tried killing that voice.

Drowning it in it’s sorrows.

Cutting it.

Watching it bleed.

It doesn’t go away.

Ever.

“Raisin Bran Crunch”! 😋

No Measuring.

No Counting.

No Re-Pouring.

I DO feel like I poured myself TOO much.

AND I probably DID.

But I AM determined to eat it anyway.

So what, I’m eating an EXTRA Serving.

Who REALLY measures Cereal, anyway!?!

Anal-Retentive Anorexic’s,

THAT’S who.

I should be able to pour, Milk it UP, and EAT.

Right!?

I am going to have to “sit” with the Fullness and Uncomfortable Bloating that occurs with every Meal, but I want to SAY I did it.

I’m actually almost done eating the entire BOWL!?

Goal:

No Purging.

No Re-Feed.

No Re-Purge.

NO Bingeing….

Until the Box is gone.

This is REALLY hard for me,

As Cereal is a VERY high “Fear-Food”.

It has been a great B/P item for many, many, many years.

Cheap.

Soft.

Soggy.

Expandable.

That desired “Fullness” is achieved.

NO Milk.

Water.

No tasting at that point.

So, it’s NOT necessary.

It invites a frantic,

yet smug and calm Catwalk.

To The Room.

Time to finish the dirty work.

Clean up.

Freshen up.

Smile.

BUT…..

We are NOT going to DO that Tonight!

Nope.

It’s going to suck.

I’ll be angry.

Defiant.

Tense.

Isolated.

Until It passes.

And I have to do it again.

THIS is where it gets HARD.

The Brain,

Body,

And Heart?

They seperate.

Shatter.

And you are left to fit those jagged pieces back together.

Even though they don’t quite fit together!?

Super Glue SHOULD do it….

Persistence WILL pay off.

I KNOW it!

😊

It’s Midnight.

And I am HUNGRY!?!

Craving, actually….

“Churro” French-Toast Sticks.

Drizzled with Buckwheat Honey.

AND smothered in Whip-Cream!?! 😬😁

I feel like I’ve been successfully proving to MYSELF, for the past week…

That I CAN eat different “Fear-Foods”.

And NOT die!?!

LOL. 🤣🙄😏

My stomach hurts a bit more,

And I’ve thrown up a few times.

Yes.

Not necessarily intentionally.

BUT,

I think I’m just getting reacclimated with Solid food….😶

BESIDES my “normal” creamy “meals”, and or little “snacks”, it isn’t really enough food to really qualify.

And it definitely DOESN’T provide the kind of Food “exposure” that I’m looking for.

I NEED to prove to myself that I CAN do this! 👊

My Goal?

A lot of different Foods, at a lot of different times.

I’ve gotta shake it up!

I really DON’T want to be relying on my own manipulative Eating Disorder Behaviors! 🙄

It’s super easy for me to get sucked into It’s grasp.

It’s silent.

Sneaky.

And SO not good!

Besides, I’ve got Jr. High Camp this Summer in exactly 1 Month.

No biggie.

EXCEPT that I’ve GOT to be semi-comfortable EATING at a Table with a TON of Kid’s and their little eye-ball’s alllll around me!?! 😣😳😵

That alone can be a bit overwhelming….right!?

BUT-

I truly DO want to set a good example for the younger Gals! 😌

Last year?

I pretty much stopped eating 3 days into Camp.

Why?

I’m not sure.

It just…..

Happened.

I managed to avoid EVERY meal…

For the remaining 5 days.

Trust me, as sneaky as I THOUGHT I was being, people definitely noticed!

No one really confronted me about it, so I was in the clear!

Or so I thought! 😳

Because then? 😞

My Eating Disorder pretty much spiraled out of control.

Quickly.

I was literally surviving on about 200-300 Calories a day.

In the form of Pureed Fruit….

Baby Food packets.

In 2 Month’s,

I’d lost over 50 Pounds.

50 POUNDS!?

I didn’t think it was really that much weight at the time…

BUT, I won’t lie.

I WAS secretly impressed with myself to be wearing a pair of SWEET Bell-Bottom Jean’s that my tall and lanky Uncle had worn in H.S.

I’d been hoarding those sucker’s-

I’d never been able to wear them before.

That’s how tiny I’d become.

Yeahhhh…

It landed me at Rodger’s Memorial Hospital in Oconomowoc, doing Inpatient and Residential Treatment for a few long and hard, Months!?! 😞

Siiiigh.

SO, NO repeats of LAST year, please! ☺

I’m proud for being Self-Aware.

And TRYING.

I.AM.TRYING.

I’m being HONEST.

Holding MYSELF accountable! 💗

By trying to do the hard work NOW, I’m HOPING that I won’t be MISERABLE eating at Camp!! 😁

Yikes!

And,

KUDOS.

To ME!

😘