Yesterday, I located a notepad of mine that I haven't opened in 14 years. In it, I wrote many words of anguish and desperation, because in December of 1999, I suffered with an eating disorder. Bulimia was something that I used to wince at whenever I saw any reality shows depicting the disease. Women and men of ideal weight were purging their meals, causing tooth decay, digestive distress and many other symptoms too numerous to mention. Frighteningly, I was that girl.
I was thinking about writing this post for many months, but hesitated because I didn't want anyone to know my past suffering. But, I want to share a little bit with you, now. This is an excerpt taken from one of my journal entries, in the midst of my pain and distress:
December 13/99--Just got out of the bath. Feeling relaxed. I purged 3 times today. I ignored that voice. My throat aches and I feel disgusting just thinking about what I've done. I keep wondering when this will all end, this self-mutilating, out-of-control behaviour. I don't know why I do this; it doesn't make me happy, I don't seem to register that this is damaging to my body. I need some help.
I am so much smarter than this, but I can't control that voice. I'm afraid to tell my parents that I'm binging and purging.
And another entry, two days later:
December 15/99--I'm not OK. I purged again. This time, I felt possessed, like a force taking over my mind. I called Mom but I didn't tell her I vomited. Now I'm sipping some herbal tea. I can't continue this way, I have to make some calls tomorrow.
I cannot begin to describe what I meant when I wrote about 'the voice'. But in '99, I was timid and insecure and I was scared of my own shadow. I was living with my father at the time, and while he was at work all day, I took on this alter-ego, whereby I would look in the mirror and be unable to recognize the face staring back at me. I was gaunt, pale and had dark circles under my eyes. I was punishing myself for no reason and I hated myself for it. Maybe back then, purging my food was the only thing I could control because every other facet of my life was spiralling out of control, or so it seemed.
I always said to myself back then, that if I succeeded in battling this, I would make every effort to be an inspiration to other women and men in some capacity. As a fitness professional, I have preached to many people over the years that being a part of the health industry literally saved my life.
So, here we all are in 2013. Fourteen years after my battle with bulimia, I have never had a relapse, and what's even more amazing to me, is that I resisted getting professional help because I knew deep down that I could beat this myself. It was an incredible journey that I rarely share with anyone else, but I felt that I had to put my apprehension to rest. I'm glad I posted this--because if only one person reads this and finds comfort in knowing that they're not alone or they could help someone else that they love, then I've done a huge mitzvah.
One thing is for certain: I am happier than I've ever been. Sure, life has its rocky moments sometimes, but I would never resort to abusing my body the way I did in December of '99. I have worked relentlessly to build a strong body and mind, and when one has a fantastic support system and a sincere passion for a job they love, things just fall into place, almost effortlessly.
Thanks for reading.
