As the thread says, I am going to let it all out, just going to go for it. I am nearly 41 years old. I had bulimia nervosa for 20 years and for 9 years before that, I had eating problems, so the battle with food was going on from age 11 to age 40. While the battle was going on, life was very very hard. I lost a baby sister to Cystic Fibrosis (I never knew her, never saw her, dont know what she looked like, there are no photos, my mother cant talk about her at all) and I lost another sister to CF when she was 15 and I was 17. I didnt get on that well with her, we were so different. When she got really ill, in hospital, I nearly didnt go to see her the last time I could have, before she died (none of us know back then she was that ill), because I had binged that day and felt out of it. I did go, thank God, but it was surreal, if I had known I was never going to see her again, i would have said sorry about all the times we had been fighting. But none of us knew and then she died. She had been going to have a lung transplant in the UK but she couldnt hold on. My parents had to go to another city with her while she was waiting for the transplant and then my mother came home and just said, trying to be so brave, your sister has gone.
My baby sister isnt even buried near my other sister, because my baby sister died so long before my other sister,they are in two different counties even, two different family plots. That hurts, it hurts my mother so much that she cant even bear to talk about the baby at all, whereas she will about my other sister.
My aunt in the States, she had a big family of kids but had 3 kids with CF as well. Two of them died, one of them is still alive, gets sick a lot but she is older than me now (43) and doing really well, considering. But then another cousin, he became an alcoholic, its like he was like me, he lost himself in drinking because he couldnt cope either. He died when he was 41. I think him dying is what made me try to recover from the bulimia, i couldnt bear for my mother to lose me as well, when I dont have CF.
Life was so tough growing up. Aside from the CF and the eating problems, I grew up in a horrible town, my father was in the police so kids were afraid to be friendly with me. It was awful, I was so lonely and so isolated. My parents had a chance to move closer to the town which would have helped but my father wouldnt do it, he wanted to live away from the town, so it was really really isolating where I was. It affected me so much, I grew up so shy and insecure, I thought about suicide all through my teenage years, all the time.
I also didnt get on with my father. He was drinking a lot back then and it frightened me. He also took a lot of anger out on me (I remember my bedroom door being broken down by him, in a fit of rage, when he was chasing me back into my bedroom). I was frightened of men for a long time.
I hope going to college would help but it made things worse. I hated it so much. I couldnt cope because I had no social skills and back then, college supports werent good. I think that is why I became bulimic then, I just couldnt cope at all. College was miserable, I failed a lot of exams in the beginning, when I finally did figure out how to stay in college, I couldnt make friends or mix that well, I just studied, and did exams.
I had no 21st because I had no friends to invite to it, thats what it was like.
After college, there was no work, it was a recession, the bulimia really took hold as well. I didnt care though about anything, I wanted to die all the time.
I finally got a work and study course through social welfare, that helped a lot. I have good memories of that and I made friends there that I still have to this day.
Things only really changed when I moved a long way away from where I was born. I got a chance to go back to college and this time, being older and not as shy, I loved being back as a student, completely different experience this time. I also got a boyfriend - he turned out to be abusive and controlling but for that year, he was ok that year.
I was still bulimic all this time, I think now that I wish I could have stopped it back then but I realise I wouldnt have known how to.
I moved in with the abusive boyfriend. Luckily I saw sense after a few months and managed to get away. I had also met another guy (who I have been with for 10 years now and married to for some time) and he helped me to get away. If I have had any real happiness and any really good life, it is thanks to my husband. He loved me so unconditionally, even with the ED.
But things werent plain sailing. I brought all my past into this relationship. He has two sisters, I was jealous of the fact that he has two sisters and didnt try to get on with them, even though they were always nice to me (messed up or what, but I know it was to do with my sisters deaths). He also got on really well with his father and I was even more jealous of that, even though his father is a really good man. Still my husband accepted all this about me. I had a really bad falling out with his sister just after we got married, she found something I had written about their father and it really upset her (which I dont blame her). Even then, my husband still stayed with me, I was sorry but only sorry I got caught, not what I had written (yes, really messed up but I wasnt rational back hen).
We messed up with our house - we bought at the height of the housing boom and have lost a lot of money on it - we dont like the house and dont know if we will ever be able to move. This bothers my husband a lot and something he DOES blame me for (I had wanted the house more than him) - its a big mistake to make but he didnt speak up back then, I wish he had though.
My health started breaking down about four years ago - all the years of the ED were catching up with me but I didnt want to admit it. I got referred for an endoscopy and the consultant found barrets (pre cancer to oesophegal cancer). My dads family have all mostly died from it, even my grandfather, the consultant thinks i have the barretts from the family history not the bulimia and I will be ok, he will prevent the cancer. I understand what he says but I still get frightened but then again, back when I was young, I didnt care about living or not.
My husband and I thought about children but I needed to get tested to see if I was a carrier for the gene for CF. I am, it upset my mother more than me, I just felt I would be. I can still have a baby with my husband (he isnt a carrier) but there is still a tiny risk that he could be a carrier of some of the other variations of the CF gene.
I got tinnitus and then about 15 months ago, my health completely broke down. I got a bladder infection that would just not go, the pain went on and on. I couldnt take it. Its like, I didnt care about living or not but I truely didnt actually want pain. Messed up, I know, but in the end, trying to get rid of the pain is what eventually made me wake up and get myself back.
I stopped the bulimia overnight. Just like that. I still binged a few times in the first few months but I stopped purging. I went for every kind of help available, both medical and alternative health and from everyone I saw (and I saw a lot of people), I figured out something from each one that helped me get better. That is where I am at now - recovered from bulimia and now trying to feel emotionally things that I have buried inside me all these years. This is very very hard. I dont have the food any more to turn to (and I dont want to either, that is how I know I am recovered) but the past, the memories, are very hard.
There is so much still I dont understand - I have been trying to make up with my father, he knows he messed up with me and he has tried to make it up with me over the years but I didnt want to know. But when I got sick, I realised I had to let go of all the hurts from the past. I feel really upset about one thing - all over the years, Dad had been going to funerals and I thought he was going as a reason to get drink. He only told me a few days ago that he goes to the mass, gives his condolences to the family and then goes home. I just didnt know, I just assumed and I feel bad now. I suppose its good we are talking.
I feel so bad about my mother. She blamed herself for years about me being bulimic. She thought I would die so many times over the decades. I have said sorry to her over and over again, genuinely now, now that I am recovered.
I am angry at the doctors back then and how I was treated. It is so different now. It was a doctor now who wondered if gluten is a problem for me, with the ED. Once I changed how I eat gluten, my ED just disappeared. Why did noone think of that back then? I realise it was different times back then but maybe my life would have been different. The other thing is, I may have had endometriosis all these years as well but no doctor thought to refer me. I suffered for years with mysterious pains right before my period and doctors just thought it was the bulimia. Now doctors have looked at this issue and think I have been misdiagnosed for decades. Again, my life could have been different.
If you are actually still reading this (and cant believe it if you are), I am still here, still standing. I have had counselling to talk all this out and I have been left with this - I HAVE TO LET THE PAST GO, I HAVE TO LIVE IN THE MOMENT AND TO KNOW THAT I AM ALIVE, PAIN FREE, HEALTHY AND WILL BE ABLE TO COPE WITH WHATEVER HEALTH PROBLEMS COME UP, IN A DIFFERENT STRONGER PLACE. I HAVE TO KNOW THAT MY TWO SISTERS ARENT ANGRY WITH ME AND ARE LOOKING AFTER ME ALL THIS TIME> I HAVE TO KNOW THAT MY PARENTS HAVE NEVER BLAMED ME AND ARE SO HAPPY NOW THAT I AM NO LONGER BULIMIC.
So why am I so so so so so so so overwhelmed with despair, even now? I dont want to die any more, I have made up with everyone, my sister in laws, my father in law (they are so good to me, even after how I messed up with them), I have a brother that I never mentioned and he never gave up on me and he is so good to me. I still have my husband and I love him so so much.
So why am I brittle inside still? I think I will never be fully ok, I think sometimes your past can be just too much, I think my sisters not being here is what is behind all this feeling, I think I still need to talk to someone.
Thats why I just let everything out here.
My baby sister isnt even buried near my other sister, because my baby sister died so long before my other sister,they are in two different counties even, two different family plots. That hurts, it hurts my mother so much that she cant even bear to talk about the baby at all, whereas she will about my other sister.
My aunt in the States, she had a big family of kids but had 3 kids with CF as well. Two of them died, one of them is still alive, gets sick a lot but she is older than me now (43) and doing really well, considering. But then another cousin, he became an alcoholic, its like he was like me, he lost himself in drinking because he couldnt cope either. He died when he was 41. I think him dying is what made me try to recover from the bulimia, i couldnt bear for my mother to lose me as well, when I dont have CF.
Life was so tough growing up. Aside from the CF and the eating problems, I grew up in a horrible town, my father was in the police so kids were afraid to be friendly with me. It was awful, I was so lonely and so isolated. My parents had a chance to move closer to the town which would have helped but my father wouldnt do it, he wanted to live away from the town, so it was really really isolating where I was. It affected me so much, I grew up so shy and insecure, I thought about suicide all through my teenage years, all the time.
I also didnt get on with my father. He was drinking a lot back then and it frightened me. He also took a lot of anger out on me (I remember my bedroom door being broken down by him, in a fit of rage, when he was chasing me back into my bedroom). I was frightened of men for a long time.
I hope going to college would help but it made things worse. I hated it so much. I couldnt cope because I had no social skills and back then, college supports werent good. I think that is why I became bulimic then, I just couldnt cope at all. College was miserable, I failed a lot of exams in the beginning, when I finally did figure out how to stay in college, I couldnt make friends or mix that well, I just studied, and did exams.
I had no 21st because I had no friends to invite to it, thats what it was like.
After college, there was no work, it was a recession, the bulimia really took hold as well. I didnt care though about anything, I wanted to die all the time.
I finally got a work and study course through social welfare, that helped a lot. I have good memories of that and I made friends there that I still have to this day.
Things only really changed when I moved a long way away from where I was born. I got a chance to go back to college and this time, being older and not as shy, I loved being back as a student, completely different experience this time. I also got a boyfriend - he turned out to be abusive and controlling but for that year, he was ok that year.
I was still bulimic all this time, I think now that I wish I could have stopped it back then but I realise I wouldnt have known how to.
I moved in with the abusive boyfriend. Luckily I saw sense after a few months and managed to get away. I had also met another guy (who I have been with for 10 years now and married to for some time) and he helped me to get away. If I have had any real happiness and any really good life, it is thanks to my husband. He loved me so unconditionally, even with the ED.
But things werent plain sailing. I brought all my past into this relationship. He has two sisters, I was jealous of the fact that he has two sisters and didnt try to get on with them, even though they were always nice to me (messed up or what, but I know it was to do with my sisters deaths). He also got on really well with his father and I was even more jealous of that, even though his father is a really good man. Still my husband accepted all this about me. I had a really bad falling out with his sister just after we got married, she found something I had written about their father and it really upset her (which I dont blame her). Even then, my husband still stayed with me, I was sorry but only sorry I got caught, not what I had written (yes, really messed up but I wasnt rational back hen).
We messed up with our house - we bought at the height of the housing boom and have lost a lot of money on it - we dont like the house and dont know if we will ever be able to move. This bothers my husband a lot and something he DOES blame me for (I had wanted the house more than him) - its a big mistake to make but he didnt speak up back then, I wish he had though.
My health started breaking down about four years ago - all the years of the ED were catching up with me but I didnt want to admit it. I got referred for an endoscopy and the consultant found barrets (pre cancer to oesophegal cancer). My dads family have all mostly died from it, even my grandfather, the consultant thinks i have the barretts from the family history not the bulimia and I will be ok, he will prevent the cancer. I understand what he says but I still get frightened but then again, back when I was young, I didnt care about living or not.
My husband and I thought about children but I needed to get tested to see if I was a carrier for the gene for CF. I am, it upset my mother more than me, I just felt I would be. I can still have a baby with my husband (he isnt a carrier) but there is still a tiny risk that he could be a carrier of some of the other variations of the CF gene.
I got tinnitus and then about 15 months ago, my health completely broke down. I got a bladder infection that would just not go, the pain went on and on. I couldnt take it. Its like, I didnt care about living or not but I truely didnt actually want pain. Messed up, I know, but in the end, trying to get rid of the pain is what eventually made me wake up and get myself back.
I stopped the bulimia overnight. Just like that. I still binged a few times in the first few months but I stopped purging. I went for every kind of help available, both medical and alternative health and from everyone I saw (and I saw a lot of people), I figured out something from each one that helped me get better. That is where I am at now - recovered from bulimia and now trying to feel emotionally things that I have buried inside me all these years. This is very very hard. I dont have the food any more to turn to (and I dont want to either, that is how I know I am recovered) but the past, the memories, are very hard.
There is so much still I dont understand - I have been trying to make up with my father, he knows he messed up with me and he has tried to make it up with me over the years but I didnt want to know. But when I got sick, I realised I had to let go of all the hurts from the past. I feel really upset about one thing - all over the years, Dad had been going to funerals and I thought he was going as a reason to get drink. He only told me a few days ago that he goes to the mass, gives his condolences to the family and then goes home. I just didnt know, I just assumed and I feel bad now. I suppose its good we are talking.
I feel so bad about my mother. She blamed herself for years about me being bulimic. She thought I would die so many times over the decades. I have said sorry to her over and over again, genuinely now, now that I am recovered.
I am angry at the doctors back then and how I was treated. It is so different now. It was a doctor now who wondered if gluten is a problem for me, with the ED. Once I changed how I eat gluten, my ED just disappeared. Why did noone think of that back then? I realise it was different times back then but maybe my life would have been different. The other thing is, I may have had endometriosis all these years as well but no doctor thought to refer me. I suffered for years with mysterious pains right before my period and doctors just thought it was the bulimia. Now doctors have looked at this issue and think I have been misdiagnosed for decades. Again, my life could have been different.
If you are actually still reading this (and cant believe it if you are), I am still here, still standing. I have had counselling to talk all this out and I have been left with this - I HAVE TO LET THE PAST GO, I HAVE TO LIVE IN THE MOMENT AND TO KNOW THAT I AM ALIVE, PAIN FREE, HEALTHY AND WILL BE ABLE TO COPE WITH WHATEVER HEALTH PROBLEMS COME UP, IN A DIFFERENT STRONGER PLACE. I HAVE TO KNOW THAT MY TWO SISTERS ARENT ANGRY WITH ME AND ARE LOOKING AFTER ME ALL THIS TIME> I HAVE TO KNOW THAT MY PARENTS HAVE NEVER BLAMED ME AND ARE SO HAPPY NOW THAT I AM NO LONGER BULIMIC.
So why am I so so so so so so so overwhelmed with despair, even now? I dont want to die any more, I have made up with everyone, my sister in laws, my father in law (they are so good to me, even after how I messed up with them), I have a brother that I never mentioned and he never gave up on me and he is so good to me. I still have my husband and I love him so so much.
So why am I brittle inside still? I think I will never be fully ok, I think sometimes your past can be just too much, I think my sisters not being here is what is behind all this feeling, I think I still need to talk to someone.
Thats why I just let everything out here.
