No, these pictures are not backwards. I’ve gone from bulimic to obese and I’m ready to finally develop a healthy relationship with food.
I was diagnosed with bulimia seven years ago during my junior year of high school. Puberty had caused me to put on some extra pounds so I did the HCG diet to get the weight off. It worked–I lost forty pounds in four months–but when it came to keeping the weight off I never had a chance. Fad diets like those don’t help you develop the healthy relationship with food that you need in order to keep the weight off; they teach you how starving yourself can give you results.
So starve I did! Lots! Whenever my weight fluctuated, as it inevitably did, I would stop eating in order to fix it. Upon coming off of the fast I’d be so damn hungry that I’d binge my face off. Then I’d panic and starve myself to fix the binge. Then I’d binge again. Starve. Binge. Starve. Binge. A hideous cycle flourished. I binged because I was so hungry from starving and I starved because I felt so guilty about binging. Weighing myself became an obsession. Oh yes, at least ten times a day. If the number didn’t fall in line with what I wanted I became incredibly depressed. I even began limiting myself to one beverage a day to help keep that number down. One can of pop or maybe one bottle of juice. I practically never drank pure water; even though you cannot physically gain fat from water it WOULD cause the silly number on that silly scale to go up and I knew that if I allowed myself even the tiniest sip of it I wouldn’t be able to stop. The hunger was tolerable but that dehydration…man, that’s where the true torture lied.
After finally seeking help, I was able to stop starving myself, stop obsessing so much about my scale, learn how to be unafraid of water. I thought I had recovered…. Thought. Before long the binge eating had crept up again but this time there was no starvation to offset it. In only two years, I went from 135 to the 228 I sit at now.
I’m tired. I’m tired of having a weight problem. I’m tired of having a food problem. I’m tired of having a body image problem. I’m fucking tired. I want to be able to eat like a normal person instead of under- and over-eating all the time. I want to have a body that isn’t marred with bright red stretch marks I have to try to conceal. I want to be able to look in the mirror and like what I see. I want to know what it’s like to love myself. What even is that! Loving yourself? Ha! I’d like to experience it before I leave this earth. I’m 23 years old, this should be the time of my life. I shouldn’t be spending these special years hiding away in my room because I’ve allowed myself to get so goddamn fat.
So I’m beginning my new life. I’ve got a problem with fast food so that’s where I’ll start. Done with it. My binging usually happens at night so next I’ll try intermittent fasting, see if shortening my food window helps facilitate the discipline I’ll need. Get my feet wet with that and then it’s pure CICO–1200 calories a day. I’ll fuck that up, a lot at first I’m sure, but as long as I keep trying I’ll be in good shape. I’m done giving up on myself all the time. I’ve even done the scariest thing possible for a fat girl–put myself on display! I just made an Instagram account to document my progress and help keep myself accountable. I’d love to get in touch with others who are looking to do the same.
180 is my first goal. See you there.