irrelevant shite

Discussion in 'Mental Health Disorders' started by Carcinogen, Jul 8, 2009.

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  1. Carcinogen

    Carcinogen Well-Known Member

    Bulimia,

    There are so many things I would like to say to you, it’s hard for me to even know where to begin. When you first entered my life 2 years ago, little did I know how much you would impact on every aspect of my existence. I had always had problems with my weight, and for as long as I can remember, I have seen myself as the biggest, fattest, whale of a person ever to roam the surface of the Earth. Over the years before I finally committed myself to you, I bounced between starving, over-exercising and restricting, with a few sporadic periods where although my weight bothered me, I was able to eat normally. But all that changed in the last couple of years.

    Maybe it was the fact that I was in a stage of transition that made me more susceptible to your questionable charms. Moving on and moving up in life as we all must do, I felt out of touch. Everyone else had a plan and a direction; me, I was just coasting. I felt out of control and I needed a focus, and it was at this point you reared your ugly head. Maybe it had nothing to do with this, and instead was related more to the damaging relationship I stupidly continued when I knew it would have been healthier to end it. Maybe it had to do with finally ending the drug use which kept me in that relationship, and trying to keep clean ever since. Maybe it had nothing to do with any of this, it’s really impossible to say with any certainty. But what I do know with all the certainty in the world is that my decision to start down this road with you is one of the worst I have ever made in my life, and I’ve made some bad decisions.

    Whatever your root cause, two years ago, I began to throw up after every meal. It started one Monday night, and I can remember straining and straining, driven by one of the strongest urges I have ever felt, to get all of that horrible, fattening food out of my stomach. As time went by, it got easier, and I became a pro at vacating my dinners from my stomach. While I was at college, I only did it once a day, as I was only eating one meal a day. It was when the holidays began that the trouble really started.

    I began chasing that high that you gave me after every purge. I was also hungry all the time, so I started going to the supermarket while everyone else was at work, and buying huge amounts of junk food, all the time driven by your seductive whisper in my ear: “go ahead, eat, you can always get rid of it”. Then when I had forced down as much food as I could physically handle you told me I was disgusting and fat, and drove me to vomit again and again until I was certain that I was empty. Despite feeling terrible, you at least meant I no longer had to suffer through my empty days trapped in my own thoughts. I didn’t need to think about anything which caused me pain; I had you instead. My saviour.

    But what a price salvation comes at. Your gifts to me have been double edged. You have given me a welcome distraction from my thoughts. You have given me a level of control. You have given me the ability to survive. But you have also given me vitamin deficiencies; my hair falls out and my nails break, I have a ghostly pallor, and I’m badly anaemic. You have given me painful acid reflux, and a screwed up digestive system. I have tried not purging, and the pain that results as my system desperately tries to work out what to do with this alien food is immense. You have given me a dirty little secret, which I must hide and nurture, and you have given me a deep sense of shame. You have exacerbated my already negative body image and given me a far greater complex about my weight. You have impacted on me financially; between you and alcohol, I have no money left. You have given me a way to continue existing, and I both love you and hate you for this. I cannot live without you, but neither can I live with you.

    So, call me selfish if you will, but I ask you for one last gift. I ask you to finish the job you started, and grant me death. I know I cannot get rid of you; recovery is far beyond my grasp. So my only other possible end is for you to kill me. My heartbeat is irregular due to my continuous purging, and I am always dizzy. Perhaps soon you will have had your fun, and will see fit to finally grant my heart to stop beating, and allow me to fall out of your thrall. It’s been an interesting journey with you, but one that I am more than ready to end. So I hope you’ve had your entertainment, and see fit to grant me this one final gift.

    Yours, from Hell

    A Bulimic
     
  2. WildCherry

    WildCherry Staff Member ADMIN

    It's possible for you to recover. It won't be easy, but it would be worth it. Can you talk to a doctor or counselor about what you're going through?
     
  3. Carcinogen

    Carcinogen Well-Known Member

    Wow, I can't believe I posted such a whiny pathetic post. I really must have been out of it to actually put this on here.

    Thanks for your reply WildCherry, I appreciate you taking the time.

    However, I have made the decision as of today to revert back to how I have lived my whole life up until the last six months. No doctors, no therapists. Just me and my thoughts. This eating thing won't kill me; I'll be dead from suicide long before it has the chance. I'm quitting therapy tomorrow, then I don't know how long I'll have. My plans are laid, though, and my time is coming. It may be within the next months, or it may be a couple of years away. I guess only time will tell. With any luck I'll quit whining on here too, though I can't promise that :dry: alcohol tends to make me posting more likely...
     
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