My very first post

A quick note. I will never mention by name any specific person who comes into this blog. I will not reveal specific places, therapists or information about other sufferers. I WILL mention things which can be sad, sickening, or triggering. For that reason I would ask that if you feel that this blog is triggering issues of your own that you don't read it.


I'm a 25 year old woman living in the UK and for the past two months I have been attempting what will be a long and difficult journey to recover from severe Bulimia. Increasingly my head is becoming a very crowded place with alot of voices speaking at once. Imagine a dark cramped cell with me in the middle, Bulimia holding tight to my legs and crying, telling me not to leave her. In the other corner is Anorexia looking thin and lovely telling me it doesn't matter what I do, I will continue to be a fat failure since I could never achieve the continuous goal of starving myself.

Because of this, I feel like I need to get some of my thoughts about whats going on out onto paper or page. This blog isn't meant to be some warped bid for attention. I'm hoping that maybe, just maybe, a select few might read this and gain some insight into the addictive and destructive illness that dominates my life and which will kill me unless I can recover ASAP. Equally I hope that maybe some other Bulimics might read this and feel some sort of rapport with whats going on, and maybe- if I can succeed- might be inspired to attempt recovery themselves. Some people might even get lucky and realise that going down the Eating Disorder route will only lead to chaos and a lifetime of crap.


A bit about me. I have been bulimic for 15 years- for quick recap, since I was 10. At 10, I was being sick a few times a week. By 14, it was every day, several times a day. At 18, it was after every meal, before meals, when I was sad, when I was bored, when I was worried, when I was happy, when I wanted to eat as much as I liked and when I felt fat.
It may sound stupid but until I was about 21, I didn't even consider that I had an eating disorder. I thought it was just a thing I did. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt. I lived at home until I was 18 and hid it completely from my parents and sister. My mother, a secondary school teacher, who was trained to recognise signs of ED's in her students, failed to see it in her own daughter. This was despite knowing that I regularly threw up. Yes really. Perhaps its harder to see when its close to home.

My eating disorder started early. I went to a private co-ed school in Wiltshire after being asked to leave my primary school- more about school later. I suffered from chronic panic attacks, shaking fits and desperate worry. I had terrible nightmares. I found it hard to sleep. I was bullied through school years from 5 to 16. Combined with that, my type A personality which adores to do well combined badly with dyslexia, dyspraxia and dyscalula (dyslexia with numbers basically.) Add all this together and the fact that my new school was target drived, academically demanding and students who didn't succeed were asked to leave.
My method to cope with the panic and stress and loneliness was to throw up. Somehow it made me feel better as if I were getting rid of the bad feelings inside me. In actual fact, forced vomiting releases endorphins, the bodies happy chemical, and gives a high equalled only by drugs!
So I had my little coping methods. Then when I was 12 a classmate showed me a book she had borrowed from our school library. Our school library btw, was one in a massive old church of a building and had various volumes which really shouldn't have been in a school library and which these days probably would have been taken out. The book was "The best little girl in the world" by Steven Levenkron (also made into a film starring Jennifer Jason Lee) , a book which plenty of sufferers either read at the beginning of their illness or find their way to shortly after. If you ever read it, and it is an interesting read, you will shortly find it contains plenty of lovely information for those who wish to learn Anorexic habits. The friend who showed this to me commented that it "was a great way to diet". Yes indeed.


In college my entire course knew that I threw up, that I had a problem but none of them ever called me to task on it, or commented or even asked if I had Bulimia. Boyfriends knew I threw up and yet again no one said a word. In uni, sharing a bathroom with several other people, it got even easier to binge- I have heard from so many other sufferers that university or College for those from the USA is where their disorder really got out of hand- no one to report to, actually being able to starve or binge and Purge as much as you like without any consequences is a pleasure and a danger all in one.

Despite the relative freedom and pressure of drinking, uni work and all that, it must have been obvious to so many that I had a problem. My most significant relationship was with a man who DID recognise the problems and helped me to overcome them. I told him I had quit purging, in fact I was lieing and buying food in secret, binging in the uni library and vomiting in the loos there- no evidence at home.

From then on, after graduation and the breakdown of my relationship with this man- not over Bulimia- I continued to binge and purge at least four times a day. Every day.
Last year I went into an Eating Disorder Unit for four months but was unable to progress as they wanted or to stop binging and purging.

The current situation: I haven't binged or purged for two months. Its a massive struggle and I'm starting to feel as if I am in an ad with a giant muffin following me.

15 years of Bulimia has taken its toll on my body. I have terrible back problems- suspected to be Osteoarthritis of the spine, caused by chronic vitamin D deficiency from my Bulimia. I get stress fractures in my fingers, feet, ankles and wrists. I get kidney stones. My nervous system is shot to hell and my digestive system is so sensitive that any extra bacteria can leave me bedridden for a week. I feel about 85.

I am one of the lucky ones. My teeth are all my own and still white, thanks to stringent dental care. I haven't got damaged liver or kidneys. I'm still fertile. My skeleton isn't totally unsalvagable. I'm hoping that I can, with time and care, reverse some of the damage.

Over the next however many months I shall write this blog about medical stuff, progress, thoughts and feelings, and answer any questions as they happen. As a very private person, this is an exercise in itself for me. But I'm hoping that maybe, just maybe I might be able to help someone else.