….then I started throwing up

So last post I spoke about not eating. Close to passing out not eating. Looking back now it seems to have be mostly about being accepted. I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be the pretty one not the sensible one smart one. I wanted the boys to like me. I wanted to have friends.

At some point my recovery lapsed and not eating turned into vomiting. I was living with my Nan at the time so it would have been not long after my Pop died. I was in high school. I had changed schools and was 16/17 or so.

No one was calling me fat. I wasn’t being bullied even though I didn’t have a lot of friends. This time it was about control. It was a wild time for a quiet girl like me. I lived with my nan for a bit, started a new school, my parents broke up and I went with Mum. Plus I was trying to do my HSC.

The thing I remember about this time of my life the most is being messed up in the head. Feeling alone and confused. I was studying a lot because I didn’t have many friends and doing the HSC is a perfect cover. I tried to have tutors but I was really full on emotionally. I had no idea about people or why I forever felt like I didn’t belong.

I remember thinking I was shit hot and hiding it. I was a messy bitch and in reality in no way hiding it. I stuck to eating safe foods and things I felt comfortable with. Then, I threw it all up. When I couldn’t throw up any harder and I thought there was more food I started sticking things down my neck like toothbrushes so I could throw up harder. There was a permanently sore throat to go with it.

It’s left it’s mark. Every dentist I go to now says “your teeth and throat….” and I have to confirm yes I was bulimic and yeah I know my throat is scarred. Apparently my teeth still show it and so does my throat 25 years later.

I remember at some point going to a doctor and getting a referral for treatment. It may have even been through school. I remember going to a psychologist and a dietician at the local mental hospital (that’s where the place was). The psychology bit was helpful. The dietician was harder because once the mental health bit was better the eating followed.

At some point I got better. I don’t quite remember when that was. I know I just stopped throwing up. I don’t think I felt any better about myself or my situation I think I was told that we couldn’t afford me to be throwing up food. It may not have been those exact words but I remember thinking I was being told that. To be fair I could eat a lot of food then feel guilty and ashamed for stuffing myself. Then with the throwing up.

Like I said it was a time

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