Confessions

 

Confession one: I make fun of myself a whole lot.

 

When I think about the challenges I’ve encountered along my minimal travels, I slap on my silliest hat and try to find the humour in my endless list of dark and twisties.

 

Impossible to imagine in my 19 years that there have been many of those, but in my opinion my story is just such a tale.

 

Confession two: I am anorexic and bulimic.

 

I can’t pinpoint where my disorder began but a few things come to mind: looking at my prom photos and thinking “you are a small whale;” going a size up in jeans after beginning birth control; having a boyfriend who ate a whole pizza and dropped weight.

 

That’s all the physical body image crap. What I’ve realized more than anything is that an eating disorder is all about control.

 

Confession three: for a lot of my life I had no backbone and no self-confidence. I put a lot of emphasis on my looks because it was one thing I could control.

 

I think it was a combination of things that led me to visit my porcelain friend after every meal.

 

Confession four: a few months into my disorder, I wasn’t looking too hot. I had gone from what I believed to be a small whale to a skeleton with hair. My teeth were a mess; I had grown a layer of fine hair referred to as fur because my body was in defensive mode; my skin was dry and cracked and my hair had thinned. Those are just the physical aspects.

 

My family intervened and began force-feeding me small meals. I kept a journal of everything I consumed in a day and weighed myself profusely, recording how much I gained per day.

 

I was a woman possessed. I remember slipping up in the first few days, sneaking a plastic bag into my bedroom to throw up in and then laughing defiantly in my mom’s horrified face when she found out.

 

I remember begging her to let me go to the bathroom, even threatening to purge on her, to let me release everything I had just consumed. These are but a few of the harsh realities my eating disorder had on my mental state.

 

Fortunately I’ve had many influential people help me along my recovery process: a wonderful boyfriend who made me feel beautiful inside and out – my lifeline, amazing friends who have stuck by my side even through the very worst times and my parents who always made sure I had something in my tummy.

 

I’ve yet to totally conquer my disorder but I’m happy to say I’m attending counselling and an eating disorder support group here on campus.

 

I’ve learned that you’re only as alone as you allow yourself to be. FYI: the more people you share secrets with, the harder it is to be sneaky. Tell someone what’s up.

 

Above all, believe that you can get better. I’m slowly re-learning that purging is not a crutch or even an option. It is something that I think will always be my demon, but every day I learn something new about the strength I possess.

 

This is my story, confessions of a not-so-fat skinny girl who still has a heck of a lot of work to do. I would leave you with an inspirational quote but I can’t think of something all-encompassing. Maybe I’ll just say what I repeat to myself before and after every meal: FOOD IS FRIEND, FOOD IS FUEL.