Showing posts with label starving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label starving. Show all posts

Sunday, 27 January 2013

Day 170: Starving and Binging - Two Sides of the Same Coin

This blog is a continuation to:
Day 155: Introduction – Starving Myself

Day 156: Wanting Passion and Purpose in Life

Day 157: Generating an Eating Disorder – The Power of Thought - Part 1
Day 158: Generating an Eating Disorder - The Power of Images - Part 2
Day 159: Generating an Eating Disorder – The Power of Writing – Part 3
Day 160: Eating Disorders and Contradictions

Day 161: Become an Image and be Treated as an Image
Day 162: Eating Disorders and Unforetold Consequences
Day 163: Mistaking Obsession for Passion
Day 164: Eating Disorders as Perfection of Mind Dominance
Day 165: Eating Disorders and Real Self-Perfection 
Day 166: From Anorexia to Bulimia
Day 167: The Big Fall 
Day 168: Always Just out of Reach 
Day 169: Turning my Back on Anorexia, Anorexia turning its Back on Me

Whenever I would go through a 'rough patch', I'd be bouncing around between starving myself and binging. I would get to a point where I was frustrated with myself and wanting to give up / get over with it -- upon which I would start binging.

I saw the binging as a point of 'stopping' the ED, where I believed that eating lots of food was the 'good' and 'right thing to do' in comparison and in contrast to starving/depriving myself -- while it was actually still a continuance and outflow of the same point.

Since I'd find myself in a bad spot, where I felt like a failure - I would go 'fine, whatever!' and go for whatever junk food was closest and stuff myself. But how I actually experienced myself and the binge eating was still a statement of failure, where I went from one side of being a failure / not good enough to starving myself to 'better myself' to the other side of eating lots and mostly lots of crap food as a point of 'I'm a mess / failure anyway so I might as well screw myself over with lots of shitty food -- I'm a screw up anyway, screwing myself over this little bit more is not going to make much of a difference'. So then that's how I would justify going into binge eating.

Then after I was done, I would feel bad, ashamed and guilty. I'd access a point of wanting to 'undo' what I just had done, so there puking became a point of 'going back in time' and correcting my mistake. So then I'd puke.

But even though the puking removes the food from your stomach, it doesn't remove the actual reason/motivation or the 'why' as to why I had stuffed myself in the first place -- which was in essence a point of self-disappointment and self-hatred.

All I cared about was getting rid of the guilt and now of course I also had to prove myself so then I'd go right back to strictly starving myself - back to the other side of the polarity.

I mean, the way I experienced myself within stuffing myself with crap food and knowing its not good for my body was the same way I'd experience myself when downing alcohol or doing drugs, where there was a point of wanting to obliterate myself.

So then when I eventually 'stopped' starving myself and believed myself to have gone 'back to normal' (not that I ever had a 'normal' relationship with food), I actually took on more of a binging pattern within myself and would 'spoil' myself a lot so to speak, eating lots of shitty food -- and then I would justify it with 'well, I'm eating aren't I?'. Like, even though I knew something was off about my eating pattern, I'd make it sound 'alright' because it was not 'not eating', as if the 'not eating' was the only thing that the ED had consisted of - while it hadn't, both points had gone hand in hand.

No-one also questioned this behaviour, and I was getting chubby -- but this was then considered 'healthy' as opposed to being skinny, and eating lots was encouraged and met by a smile on my mother's face, being happy that I was apparently 'out of it'.
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Monday, 21 January 2013

Day 166: From Anorexia to Bulimia

This blog is a continuation to:
Day 155: Introduction – Starving Myself

Day 156: Wanting Passion and Purpose in Life

Day 157: Generating an Eating Disorder – The Power of Thought - Part 1
Day 158: Generating an Eating Disorder - The Power of Images - Part 2
Day 159: Generating an Eating Disorder – The Power of Writing – Part 3
Day 160: Eating Disorders and Contradictions

Day 161: Become an Image and be Treated as an Image
Day 162: Eating Disorders and Unforetold Consequences
Day 163: Mistaking Obsession for Passion
Day 164: Eating Disorders as Perfection of Mind Dominance
Day 165: Eating Disorders and Real Self-Perfection

In Day 160: Eating Disorders and Contradictions I mentioned how at some point my family started getting suspicious of my eating behaviour and how skinny I started looking.

My mom would start pointing out how my lunchbox is still full when I get back home or from school or that she didn't see me prepare my lunchbox and how she never sees me eat breakfast, and that the scale has been left out in the bathroom a lot. I remember the one day, I came out of the bathroom and my mother looked at me and I just saw fear in her eyes, she looked bewildered and said "What is up with you! You don't have an eating disorder now have you?!". And because of the amount of fear and worry in her eyes, I just told her to "Stop being so paranoid, I'm fine". I think she was quite happy with that answer, because imagine if I had said 'yes mom, I have an eating disorder' -- that's like a big fear come true and she would have probably interpreted it has being 'her fault' and her being a 'bad mother'.

I realised I had been careless and had to become more specific in how I did things. In the mornings while my mom was in the bathroom I would take an empty plate, put the toaster upside down and shake some crumbs unto it. I'd then take a knife and put some choc-spread on it and make a streak on the plate -- now I had dirty dishes as 'proof' that I had eaten breakfast and I would leave it on the table in a nonchalant way. My mom would see the dishes and fill in the gaps herself, and I could see her smile.

I would do the same with my lunch, make lunch in the morning and then at lunchtime just crumb a piece up a bit and wipe the inside of my lunchbox with a piece to make it nice and dirty - forging 'having eaten lunch'. On weekends I would try going to friends, and tell my parents I would eat there and when I got at my friends I'd tell them I already ate at home.

I basically did not eat anything except for dinner, but now my parents were forcing me to take big portions and there was no way out of it. So I ate the big dinners and I started putting on weight, because now the body is in survival mode and wants to just store up as much in the body in anticipation of the next 'famine'. I started getting desperate.

During this whole period, I would also read a lot of blogs of other people, there's a whole 'pro-ana' and 'pro-mia' community on the internet ( pro-ana being pro-anorexia and pro-mia being pro-bulimia') of people posting daily about their daily application and progress. I saw that some girls would puke out the food they ate after binging - which was something I would rather not do -- I'd rather just not eat if I could instead of eating and then having to puke it out -- it just seemed like too much of a hassle.

But now that I felt that I was in a 'desperate spot', I decided to give it a go with my dinners. I'd drink a shitload of water, almost a sip after every bite so that it would be easier to throw it up later. I thought it worked great - initially. I could eat my dinners without any fuss, and could eat several meals during the weekends when there were more eyes around and then afterwards just go up to the bathroom upstairs and throw it all up. This worked fine for a bit, but after a while my stomach started hurting a lot and my throat as well. I couldn't puke as easily anymore and now whenever I would puke, most of the puke would come out through my nose and the veins in my eyes would pop of all the pressure, leaving them bloodshot. Then at some point I saw that I was puking out blood with my food and that's when I knew I had to stop -- my project had gone too far and the damage to my body was now undeniable.

To be continued...
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