Struggling To Keep Up. My Bulimic Story

Struggling To Keep Up!

My problems started when I was 12 years old. It began when I started having friends who were really into sports and I enjoyed playing the sports with them. It got to the point where I didn't want to eat at lunch; I just wanted to play football. Then I would stop eating when I was at home, so I would still be fit enough to play sports. I was on several sports teams and had a figure I wanted to keep, skinny.

It began to get worse when I couldn't continue to avoid eating, my mum would check on me and make me eat. One night we both sat down and watched a film, it was about a girl with bulimia and she and her friend used to purge together, when the film ended I knew that was what I had to do. Purge.

I began to purge atleast once a week, then twice a week until I reached the point where I did it every day.

Moving to a different school made this experience worse for me. I would refuse to eat, make up stories and lies that I’d already eaten.

My relationship with my mum was always good but it got to the point where we couldn't be in the same room with each other. When I got home from school, she'd go out. That was perfect for me because I’d be left to do dinner for me and my sister. I'd cook something small and throw mine away, while encouraging my sister to eat hers all up 'like me'. If I did have a night where my mum would be in for dinner, I’d hide my food when she wasn't looking.

I found a friend at my new school that was just like me, she was really skinny but thought she was fat; I wanted to look just like her, stick thin. We'd give each other tips and hints, stories to tell our parents and we'd support each other’s purging. When we got called healthy, we'd cry because healthy to us meant 'fat'. But one of us was getting worse than the other. Me, I wouldn't eat any food; I’d drink plenty and then bring that up just so I wouldn't get any fatter. I looked in the mirror pulling at myself hating the 'fat girl' in my reflection.

My friend began to see what she was becoming and got help for herself, but I saw nothing wrong with what I was doing, it felt good.

I continued alone, purging more and eating less. I felt in control when in reality I was spiraling out of control. When people would say how they can see my bones and told me how skinny I looked, I’d take it as a compliment and be overjoyed with how well I was doing.

It got to the stage where I would cough up blood and pass out because of the amount of days I would go without eating.

I lost concentration in all my subjects and was devastated when I got a 'C' in my dance exam, for passing out in the middle of my routine. My health was deteriorating around me and everyone but me could see it.

It was a shock when I got a letter from my friend who stated that she was scared I was going to die, after all, I’d lost my periods and my outlook on life. She wasn't the only one telling me I was going to die and it hit me hard, I wanted to be normal again.

I couldn't stomach anything, not even drinking water. Whatever went in just came up automatically and it was terrifying now, when at first it was exciting and made me happy. I knew I had to get help.

My chance for this, was when I had paramedics rushed to my bed after I couldn't stop being sick and I kept going in and out of consciousness.

I went to a self-esteem class and I had to rehabilitate from how bad I had gotten. I now know how bad I was, and I can cope with being at a healthy weight. But I know if I get put down about my weight even once, I don't have the strength to steer away from relapsing into my eating disorder.

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