Bulimia Help

I am back at my parents place. Where I grew up and where I first developed bulimia. I have never ever spent a day within these walls not bingeing or purging. It is going to be a challenge of a lifetime. Especially since the first thing my dad says to me in the airport is that I had 'put on weight and look "meaty"' not exactly what I needed to hear in my fragile state but I have gotten used to him speaking before thinking now. Never the less, it hurts. The past few days are a blur of emotions and chaotic eating. I haven't been bingeing or purging but I have been eating 6 meals one day and then 1 the next. Now it is crucial that I get back on track in order to quickly find a routine that will help me continue beating this disorder. I am already panicky over the future, I miss my friends terribly and I am trying to find a plan. There is a lot of good things about being here, I am going to focus on them:
- There is lovely nature, I can go for long walks/ nice runs/ bike rides.
- I can cook whatever I want and there is always nice food and flavors to use. My mom will let me take care of my own eating and won't force me to anything since she is aware of my problems.
- I won't party or drink. At least not as often as before and this is a huge good point. My alcohol consumption had gotten a bit out of hand the past weeks.
- I can focus on getting my portfolio together and look for jobs.
- I can read and draw and learn some new programs without getting tempted to do something else (at least nothing unhealthy)

Overall, I know it is going to be tough, I know I will miss my old life but I also know that I made the right decision and that new and exciting things are bound to happen if I see life from a positive view point. Operation 'Inner strength' have started..

xx Lisa

I've spent the last five days in London with my best mate.
And it was horrible, it was a total let down. The shopping was crap, the weather was horribly wet and my dad and brother were foul. Properlly mean, ignorant and totally thoughtless.

My dad actually used the phrase "stuffing your face" to describe my actions, now I know he doesn't know about what I'm going through right now but he knows I USED to... surely he's aware of the significance?
I mean it's not like it's something you can FORGET.

Actually, while we're talking about that, I'm going to scrap all the other stuff I was going to put in this blog and tell you about today.
I got back from London yesterday to find my mother had eaten my tub of icecream that was in the freezer. I had to disguise my spazz attack and binged on something else. But she sat there and watched me prepare my binge food. And said nothing.
And then today I binged and purged twice. Then she said we'd order a pizza as my brother has some friends round.
Surely, SURELY she's slightly aware of what eating a pizza is gonna do to me?

It's like people forget. I don't really understand it.

When I was in London, on Sunday at the end of the dire last day Jess and I both had a bit of a pig out. But obviously for me it meant something worse. And then particuarlly after what my dad said I purged and Jess knew. She said she was sat there in the living room with my dad and realised I'd been gone a while straight after dinner and she just knew.
And then when I came back downstairs I had a look on my face, so she said, nothing obvious but I just had a look and she knew.

We talked about it for ages. That's what this blog was going to be about but instead of thinking about how great our talk was and how positive it made me feel I'm sitting here now wondering how the hell people can stand by and let me do it? My family aren't stupid, and they get so upset when we talk about it, so why the fuck aren't you doing more to stop me?

Yesterday, was a really good day for me. The first day in a long time to!
I woke up in the morning, having a good balanced breakfast and sipping my coffee, listening to the birds chirping and the sun slowly rising... and listening to Bob Dylan (my hero.) All day I was talking to my love (Will) and couldn't stop thinking about him! He sent me tons of cute messages that made me feel all fuzzy inside and gave me a big boost to recover.
So at noon, I went to my therapist meeting and it was a little interesting at first.. she kinda pissed me off a bit (actually-a lot.) But I delt with it and just basically told her to shut up in the kindest way possible! She says I'm "too sweet" and that I "put up a wall towards everyone I meet and rarely knock it down." that wasn't what got me so mad though.. it was her talking about my dad and how much he cares and that my mom and I knock him out of the family. Okay-she's wack.

After all that jazz we went to go see my family and shop a little but first we went to Mcdonalds. I bought something that I knew wouldn't make me feel guilty but that was good for me. I got there Southwestern salad (it had cheese, black beans, and corn) so it was a good boost of fiber and protein! Lasted me till dinner! Then after visiting Grandmaw, going shopping*bought lots of goodies!* and seeing my uncle and cousin, the day was good! We didn't start heading home till about 7:30 so it took us a few hours to get home. We stopped at Subway, I got my favorite sub, a lemonade, and a banana. Yum!
When I finally got home I took a nice shower, relaxed, chatted with Will and then went to sleep. Now it's the start of another new day and I got plans out the you know what!

Recovery is possible-I'm going to beat this eating disorder and live my life! <3

Today my dad said, "you're not THAT fat."

Really, Dad? Really? Some sensitivity would be appreciated.

My parents were born and raised in a third-world island nation, so I completely understand that my eating disorder is something new and unfamiliar to them, but my dad is just NOT GETTING IT AT ALL! I love my dad, he's always so happy and optimistic and silly. I mean seriously, I'm 19 and I still call the guy Daddy. But when it comes to my bulimia he's just on another planet.

Today he goes, "So I don't get it, you MAKE yourself throw up?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Okay, so just stop then!" Omg really? If I could, I would. HELLO?!

"It's all in your head Thurga. Just think positively and you'll be okay. You don't have a disorder."

Yeah Dad, go tell that to my psych and counselors.

I have all my home videos on DVD from before I was born until about a year before my ED officially began. Or well, I should say when I began restricting and then later binging and purging. I have an older sister who I constantly compare myself to. She was the first everything: first child (born on mother's day at that), first grandchild / great-grandchild, first one to graduate high school, first to graduate college (summa cum laude, 2 degrees), first to get married, first to have a house, and now a baby. I can't win. She has been the pretty one all my life. The thin one. The one to date. The one everyone saw pictures of and simultaneously said she was "hot" and that we looked nothing alike.

She is extremely triggering for me to this day without even realizing it. I was never thin before my ED, and I can't ever remember her being ugly. But on these movies, I can see she wasn't always thin. She was bigger too. Why does she pat my stomach when I'm barely a year old and she's 3 and compare me to my overweight grandfather? Why does she say at age 10 that her new year's resolution is "to join Bally's and lose weight?" It puzzles me even more than the fact that I had been big my whole life without hardly realizing it.

I am extremely thankful, not only for having these videos but for the wonderful and supportive family I have. I have only happy childhood memories. I've never been abused. We had our own struggles with illness and money, but we got through and we live comfortably now. I never went hungry. I never wanted. In fact, I always got my way. I know people have had it worse than me. I know people do. Why do I continue to do this to myself? Why the obsession with weight and the hurt and the constant hiding?

Hi All ~ This is my first blog post. I've been a little hesitant to start writing.

I needed to get out that one of my main triggers is criticism. When someone, whether close to me or a complete stranger, criticizes me, whether intentionally or not, it really hits a core inside of me. And it's difficult to know why my insides (emotionally) start going ballistic.

My father is a very large reason for the issues I face today; not blame, I am trying to be objective as I can. To try and stand outside of myself and see this through a different perspective, which is why I am writing here and getting it "out there".

Thanks for letting me get this out.

(oh yeah, and because of this website, I have been able to stay b/p free since monday, marking today as star day number five, and I intend to keep going)

Well I told my cousin the other night that I am bulimic. Today she told my dad who told the rest of the family who basically staged an intervention. I love my family.

They are very concerned. But I didn't tell them because I didn't want to hurt everyone. I've really freaked everyone out now. I already burden them w/ finances being in a private college and stuff and now there's more. ugh. Well they all assure me that its NOT a burden its a concern for me and its OK and that they WANT to help. I just keep thinking that I'm a burden, stressing everyone and wish they didn't know. I think that's Ed talking. :/ I wish he'd SHUT UP.

I guess I'm going to see a shrink next week. I don't like therapy. I've been there before. When I was young my step brother molested me. I was in therapy for that for months... ughh...

I'm about to move from FL to St. Louis, I know NO ONE there. so I'm trying to have a fresh start there.

I'm leaving you Ed. right here in florida. you've been a TERRIBLE companion.

I notice on here that a lot of people have trouble with their dads. I haven't ever really fought with my dad about my bulimia, but I know if there's one way I've "failed" him, it's that. In his mind, he can't see why his beautiful daughter, who is a National Merit scholar and always at the top of her class, would be stupid enough or even feel the need to throw up her food. He can't see that I didn't see myself as beautiful, and being smart had always been my curse as well as my gift.

And I have always been too ashamed to even talk to him about it. I wish I could. I've always felt really close to my dad, but he's not a big talker...we've just silently understood each other. But this is one thing that he could never, ever understand. I wouldn't even know where to start. My dad is such a wonderful, kind, polite, hardworking person, and I have no justification of my actions for him. I've lied to him, wasted his money on food, and undoubtedly caused him so much pain. What can I say?

Now that I am well on the road to physical recovery and stopping the vicious cycle of my ED, my next step needs to be confronting my demons. I need to talk to my dad and articulate my apology to him, no matter how hard it may be. Recovery has taught me that life, love, family, and friends are precious, and I want my relationships with the people I love to be complete. Any ideas for me?

<3 birdie

My Grandma Pauline was born and raised in England. Some of my fondest memories are of my sister and I visiting her for the day when we were little. We would argue over and finally agree upon which Disney movie out of her vast selection we would watch, then play hours of dress-up in the collection of bridesmaids dresses in her closet. Then she would give us a snack: we could each pick one cookie out of the selection from the bulk bins at the supermarket where she worked as a greeter, and then she would make us a cup of English tea. She showed us the proportions of hot water, cream, and sugar necessary for optimal deliciousness, and served us from beautiful flowered teacups and saucers.

She died of cancer when I was nine.

Now tea is one of the things that is helping my recovery most. The ritual of pouring the hot water over the teabag, stirring in the milk and sugar (or not, if it's a tasty herbal tea), cupping the hot mug in my hand, gingerly sipping. Though it's been eleven years since I've hugged my Grandma Pauline, it's like I feel her gentle arms around me every time I drink some tea...I hear her English accent saying, "Hello, darling!"

And though I'm not sure I really believe in God, I'd love to believe that she is looking down on me from somewhere, and that she is so proud of me for kicking this ugly ED's butt.

Oh gosh, I didn't mean to cry but I sort of am now...but mostly I'm happy hehe =)

So here I am. Day 3, and the sky isn't falling. My throat is healing from the slip before. I ate dinner with my family last night and I didn't morph into a large animal. No no. Since ED introduced me to himself and the power of food/weight obsession, I haven't spent as much time with my family as much as I used to. Its a shame really, the nights I wasted, head over a large plastic bin, in my room. Or the bags of vomit, Or the vomit on my floor. Needless to say, it was gross. or alternatively the nights where I would just work and work and work on my college essays refusing to eat over so many calories for days. It was just not a life. Now ED is making a brief show here and there, but nowhere near as present as before, I can spend more time with my family. Eat dinners with them, visit them, not panic over what I eat or won't eat. There's nothing quite like it in my book. Family have been a huge motivation to recover.
My Nephew is coming up to 10 months old in 2-3 weeks. It's crazy. And what's even more crazier is that he is Crawling! he started on Friday. Now that is a reason to recover. I can't wait till he starts talking and stuff, and I don't want to be the invisible Aunty who never spends time with her nephew cause she's obsessing over a number on a machine. I don't want to have to isolate myself from my nephew. I want to be a good Aunty. And I know I can be when I'm in recovery mode than when I'm with ED.
So today's the day. My Cousin is getting married. I'm going to the wedding today with my Mum and my siblings, and plan to spend the entire day with my family. I get to see my Aunty, my marathon runner Aunty. The one who inspired me to run. Yet she doesn't know I've started running. I can't wait to see her, so she can't give me some tips. Tomorrow btw is my new goal to run 38 minutes in the countryside, 19 minutes there, 19 minutes back. wish me luck!