Share my story... okay. Well, I'm 19 years old and I am currently suffering from bulimia, so I guess my story doesn't have an end just yet, but the thoughts, the feelings, the actions, the binging (I call it ETW because I hate the word "binge" it means "Eat The World") are all worth sharing. I really don't know when I first made myself throw up. I was always so against doing it when one of my friends did it. We were freshman's in high school. My heart was broken the beginning of my senior year. I know I did it then. I was so mad inside and needed to do something bad. When I'm stressed I lose weight anyway, but it just wasn't enough. I guess, I was down to 104.5 pounds when my heart was broken. I hated being that thin, when I was normally 113. Now, I'm 125 pounds and I hate it so much, and I would give anything to be naturally one hundred and thirteen pounds. It never developed into a habit, or "full-blown bulimia", until this summer (2007), it was always just a once and awhile thing. I had heard that if you do it once you'd be hooked and I always thought that I would be stronger than that and be able to only do it once and never do it again, but I was very wrong. Last year, I finally realized I had a problem, but I was only throwing up once and awhile, and by the end of the school year I was doing really good. I think I went over two months without doing it. This summer was the most horrible summer of my life. My group of friends at home all separated into their own "life after college", but me and my best friend Lisa stayed pretty close. I never shared my secret problem with her, because I wasn't ready to. I'm able to talk to some of my other friends about it though, which is wierd. When I finally told Lisa, she called me a liar and thinks she doesn't know me at all, and basically abandoned me. We're not friends anymore, we don't talk or anything. How can she do that to me? I have other awesome friends that can help me though. I'm just emotionally screwed up, and I have a hard time figuring out why, and why I do this to have control. Now.. it is a habit. A big, bad, disgusting, ugly habit. Want to know what I feel 24/7? Well, I will tell you. Looking down and feeling every single roll or flab of skin, every cellulite crater on my legs or behind. Hating yourself and everything you see and feel about yourself you hate. Twenty four hours a day, 7 days a week, of beating myself up psychologically really puts a digger in my heart. I've lost my best friend and pushed all my other friends away, because I feel too fat to hang out with them. I think they'll all notice how much weight I gained over the summer. I can't tell my mom either, no way. I believe going back to school tomorrow would have helped me a lot, if I had a good record of not throwing up, but these past couple of days I have thrown up once or twice a day, so basically I screwed myself. I know if I throw up at school, then I'll be hooked, and school won't be an escape. I'm doomed, and I hope everybody reading this gets help as soon as they can. You don't want to end up like me, or worse. This is a disease. Get treatment in time before you drown in it.
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