My secret eating disorder

I…. Have an eating disorder.
There, I said it, it’s out in the open!
It’s not something I tell people because I inevitably have that person look at me like im an attention seeking twat crying wolf in order to get a bit of sympathy.
This is down to the fact that I am currently a UK size 16 and blatantly not anorexic.
What most people are ignorant of is that there are many types of eating disorders.
Yes there is anorexia, a horrible disorder where the affected starves themselves for weeks, months, years on end and sometimes to death.
There is bulimia, an equally horrible disorder which involves regularly binging on highly fatty, sugary, junky crap and then sticking your fingers, toothbrush or some other foreign object down your throat until you vomit up as much of what you have just consumed as you possibly can without vomiting up your own innards.
It may surprise you to know that super morbidly obese people also suffer from an eating disorder, oh yes it’s not just that they are greedy fat lazy bastards who eat themselves into an early grave through zero self control, they also suffer an eating disorder where they compulsively eat, they have an addiction to food.
This addiction has been proven to be one of the hardest addictions to beat.
Now we come to the arse ache of a disorder that is a part of me…. Deep breath….
I, have binge starve syndrome, it is an eating disorder which involves binging on food, packing on a load of weight and then starving yourself or vomiting after every meal until you lose some or all of the weight you put on.
There are no rules surrounding this disorder and no obvious outward signs that someone is suffering from it, I.e sufferers tend not to be extremely over weight nor underweight, we look pretty normal actually.
My disorder is a combination of all three of the above listed disorders and it’s a fucking nightmare.
My whole world revolves around food and my weight.
It is a daily god damn battle and I despise it.
It started aged 17, after years of bullying in school and comfort eating on top of being force fed images of perfect and flawless size zero women since I was a young girl, I decided I didn’t want to be the fat one anymore.
After watching my mum starve herself from a UK size 20 to a size 8 in a matter of months I decided it looked pretty bloody amazing actually and decided to give it a go.
And so the hellish cycle of weight off weight on began.
I lost 5 stone that first time and I fucking loved it!
Problem: I started eating again once satisfied with my weight loss.
And so I put three stone back on and started my starve diet once again and so on.
I have been 17 stone at my heaviest and 9 stone at my lightest but I have never stayed the same weight for longer than a month or two.
I have tried all sorts of tricks in my quest for consistent skinny.
I have downed laxatives and so spent a month pissing out of my arse until a feeling similar to battery acid on my stinging ring became too much to bare and I moved on to vomiting after each meal, I would stick my head down that toilet, inhaling the stench of stale urine and my own bile whilst practically shoving my whole fist down my throat in order to get my latest binge out of my body before it processed the calories.
My throat got so sore that even swallowing water felt like choking on sandpaper.
So again I moved on, I visited pro anorexia websites in a desperate search for tips on how to stop those pesky hunger pangs when I stopped eating.
I went for days with not so much as a crumb passing my lips.
I survived off water and air.
Until it all became too much and a massive binge would commence.
My longest binge period lasted two years at the end of which I weighed the heaviest I ever have done in my life.
Then one day I sat down to watch a program about a super morbidly obese lady.
I watched as her carer lifted the mass of blubber that had become her stomach to clean the infected, cottage cheese like open sores underneath, which had occurred as a result of her flesh splitting open once her skin had been stretched so thin it could not hold in the fat any longer and I panicked.
“Please dear god no, that can’t happen to me, I don’t want to end up with one arse cheek weighing more than the entire population of the united kingdom, I don’t want to sit there and watch a carer trying not to heave on the stench of my rotting open sores” I thought.
Jumping up from my sofa I grabbed a bin bag and threw out everything even remotely junk like.
And so a starve period began, once again.
I am currently at a stage where I am tired.
Very very fucking tired.
Of the struggles, the guilt trips, the mood swings and everything else involved with this cunting disorder.
Im currently trying to eat healthy rather than starve myself, im trying desperately to get back to my once slim self in as healthy a way as possible.
But jesus christ does it really have to be this hard?!
There are no websites offering help for this kind of disorder, most people have never even heard of it and the most help doctors will offer is an appointment with a dietician.
I bloody well know what’s healthy you absolute cretins! I need help to break the vicious circle I find myself in!!
There’s help everywhere for anorexia, bulimia and food addiction but none for the people who don’t fit neatly in to one of those categories.
And so I sit here, after having forced a few lettuce leaves down my throat in an attempt to fight the urge to starve and I wonder….
When the fuck will it end?!



2 responses to “My secret eating disorder

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