MamasHealth.com Home Bulimia Personal Stories A Few Months Ashamed Of Myself Battle With Bulimia Battling My Eating Disorder Bulimia Bulimia Freak Bulimic and Depressed Figure It Out Good Bye Bulimia Hi, I am Bulimic I Hate My Body I Just Want Happiness In Silence Long Story Me and Bulimia Mean Jokes My Body Lost Calcium My Bulimia My Bulimia Problem My Endless Struggle My Knuckles are Red My Life Non-Stop Not Even My Husband Not How I Use To Be One Step At A Time Please Read Links Email Mama Addiction stories Anorexia stories Athletic stories Bulimia stories Eating Disorder Family and friends stories Help Me! Herpes stories I'm not healthy stories Medical disease stories Medications and eating disorders Migraine stories Mother stories Recovered Anorexic Recovered Bulimic Recovered Eating Disorder Self esteem stories The Letter "C" Weight stories Mama's Inspirational quotes Mama's Motivational pledges Mama's Health quotes Mama's Poem	My story I have a long story, but it probably won't seem so tragic once it's been put down.  It started when I was six months old, when my mother shot herself. That led to many messed up problems and depression. My dad remarried this controlling, abusive, and all around mean step-mon. At five, my dad molested me.  The wicked step-mom found out and hated me even more. See, I look just like my biological mom, so she was always jealous that my dad would love me more. She treated me pretty messed up growing up. I never had a mom to run to and cry on. I didn't have a dad who would hug me and say it's going to be alright. So, at about fifteen I started hurting myself and purging. Oh, the Beast (my step mom) also started smoking weed with me.  She got me hooked on it, but would use it as a cruel joke to take it and give it at her whim. At sixteen, I was given cocaine by my parents who were abusers for quite some time.  That really messed me up.  I pretty much stopped eating and when I did eat, I purged. At the age of seventeen I was doing a lot of cocaine, and in October of 1999, my parents, again lost their jobs and our place to stay.  I had to move again to Arizona and we all stayed with my Step-mom's relatives in the slums.  There was a drug-dealer living next door and sometimes my dad had to drag "her" from the pipe by her hair. That was an awful experience, guess what, it gets worse. I was basically homeless, so I started living with this guy.  He was my first boyfriend and I didn't know much about relationships.  Well, my parents left me there and moved on again to Texas.  When they did that, the man I was staying with got very violent with me. My condition got worse, I passed out one time from not eating enough or throwing up, I can't remember. I had no choice in that time. I stayed with the guy for five hellish years. Thank God I didn't get pregnant by him. Eventually, I got lucky. Another man came into my life and I packed all my stuff one night and took a taxi to his place, that was the night my life changed forever. I am still struggling with bulimia, but not as nearly bad as I used to I have two beautiful girls. I throw up maybe two to five times a month, give or take. I still struggle with the mirror every time I see myself. I hate the reflection. But I have to give myself time to loose the baby weight. Some day I tell myself I'll be happy with what I look like. You have any comments or questions? Email me at rjones272@cox.net. Thanks Share your story	Sign up for our Email Newsletter For Email Marketing you can trust
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