Finally, oblivious parents have recognized my bulimic ways and decided to get me help. I’m going to a doctor tomorrow and I’m actually eating full meals. I feel…. pretty good. I thought all hell was going to break loose if they found out, but they were more understanding than I thought they would be. My brother knows, and he choose to just ignore me instead of supporting, but he can go fuck himself for all I care.
My bulimia was the cause of all my strife. I’ve felt happier in the past two days than I have in a long time. Though it will take me months to recover (I might have a stomach ulcer) I look forward to the recovery, because it will be undoing all of the hate and unescessary physical pain I’ve put myself through. (Reading the inspirational stories on this site has also helped me). I started in the first place as a way to deal with my binge eating due to the supressed emotions I felt towards my brother. But that all is slowly dissipating. (Though I would be lying if I told you those aspirins didn’t look tempting from time to time).Â I feel relieved, liberated. I was angry andÂ bitter at myself because I felt like I was stuck in a situation that provided me with no hope, no future. But each day that I eat and not make myself sick is a day where the future seems a bit brighter. This was my release. Everyone needs a release, whether they want to admit it or not. You just have to find it; and it can’t be in drugs or alcohol or self- mutilation (or death for that matter). You need to find something that makes you feel as if you’ve just stopped seeing all the tyranny in the world and just discovered all the wonder. I did. There is good in the world, you just have to find it. And when you find it, it will be, well, a release.
That baseline hasn’t played in my head for the past two days. It’s a start.