((Before you read this, please note that I have a sick sense of humour and will poke fun at myself and my ED. If you find this offensive, please just ignore me and carry on. If you also suffer yourself, please know that this may be triggering. I am so used to censoring myself so I don’t trigger others but this is my journal and I will write as I feel is needed. I am also a huge advocate for educating others on ED and therefore, I am more than happy to answer any and all questions)).
I also swear. A lot.
I just get in these moods where I need to write. I need to express all of the things that are stuck inside of me. It could also be procrastination since it is midterm week. I’m really good at that.
So I start these journals, I get about three entries in and then I forget about them. Or, in the midst of a binge, I feel like I have to repent myself and come here to confess. It makes me angry and I end up deleting the entire journal. I hate admitting to myself when I’ve failed.
The funny thing about all of this, I don’t practice what I preach. I’m a fraud. I’m a third year Psychology student. I’d like to get at least my master’s degree. Ironically, my group research project is on anorexia nervosa this year. My group members think I’m so educated and look at me for all of the answers. I’m just speaking from experience, really. Is it weird that I’m proud of that? That I know all of the symptoms, the treatments, and how to apply the biopsychosocial model to eating disorders, like the back of my hand? My book shelves at home are littered with self-help, body positive, mindfulness eating, educational books. I even have the DSM-V, relevant pages noted and tagged or earmarked. I look so educated. I look dedicated.
They don’t know that all of those books were purchased out of my own desperation for help.
I really don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
I also run a successful IG page dedicated to well-being. It helps me a lot and I’ve connected with some great people and have had some product endorsements. I try to be as honest as possible on there. I want to be easy to relate too. I want others to know that I struggle just as much. But I also disappear for days on end when I’m in the middle of a binge. I am mortified because last year, I had successfully lost weight in a healthy way (monitored by my doctor) and went an entire year binge free. I wonder what my followers would think if they saw me now, chubby again, but still preaching self-care, healthy nutrition, and wellness?
I was doing really good but then I started school again. Dad had some suicide attempts because of his PTSD. His girlfriend is crazy and airs all of their dirty laundry on FB. Mom got a new boyfriend and moved 2 hours away with my grandmother. I work in an abusive environment. My brother took himself off of his SSRI’s, became vegan, got dumped by his girlfriend, and now hermits in my dad’s basement with his stoner best friends. I was diagnosed with endometriosis and ended up having my period for 10 FUCKING MONTHS where I was continuously pumped with steroids and hormone treatments. My sister and my three beautiful nieces live 14 hours away and feels helpless. She would call me in the middle of the night, crying, begging me to go and check up on Dad because he was sending her scary texts. My boyfriend is depressed with his shit job but has no motivation to do anything about it unless I nag at him.
I don’t want to point fingers but I spent the entire year trying to fix and take care of everyone else that I forgot about myself. I did well in school but I also gained weight. The binge eating came back which means so did the purge cycles.
For the record, when I say purge, I don’t mean your stereotypical induced vomiting. Little do a lot of people know, purging for bulimics can also be in the form of laxative use, excessive exercise, food restriction, enemas, etc. Any method that, more or less, disposes of the ingested food… to put nicely. For myself, when I say “I purge”, I generally mean the use of laxatives and/or major food restriction. Induced vomiting was never my forte.
(I tried to think of a joke about being on my knees but at 8:30am, it just wasn’t coming to me, sorry).
I’m trying to fight a binge now. I had successfully ate healthy for 8 days and then, with papers due, reading to be done, a midterm on Friday, and Thanksgiving this weekend (I’m Canadian, eh?), I just caved. I had pork tenderloin in the slow cooker but the smell, for some reason, was just grossing me out. I was cranky, I was tired, I felt overwhelmed. I took a break and went to the grocery store. I needed to pick up a parcel and I thought the fresh air would do me good. I picked up things for Thanksgiving dinner as I’m hosting it this year at my apartment. I wasn’t hungry or anything but I found myself standing in the bakery department, zoned out on all of the breads and cakes, pies and cookies. My boyfriend said I looked so sad, like I was being forced to say “goodbye” to a loved one. He encouraged me to walk away and it worked but we got home and, already irritable, I shoved my mouth full of three granola bars and an apple and told him to wrap up that pork tenderloin because we were getting cheeseburgers for dinner.
I don’t consider last night a binge though so I am proud of that. I had a cheeseburger with a side of onion rings. I wanted chocolate too so my boyfriend picked me up a chocolate bar from 7/11 and he bought a bag of Doritos. I had my dessert about an hour after my dinner and then munched on a few Doritos but I wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t binge. So that’s a win.
I swore I would get back on my routine this morning but I woke up way later than my alarm and had to get to classes so I stopped at Tim Hortons (another Canadian reference, eh!” and grabbed myself a medium double-double (3/3 Canadian references), a bagel with cream cheese, a muffin, and two cookies. I didn’t want THAT much but it’s better than what I usually get there and I steered away from the pumpkin spiced latte I really wanted.
It’s a lot of sugar but I THINK I’ll be okay. I don’t really see myself stopping at my usual stores for treats and snacks on my one-hour commute back home. Especially with my boyfriend off from work today. He would know. We’ll eat that pork tenderloin and a salad for dinner tonight. I think I’ll be okay. I’m proud, I guess. It’s bittersweet.