EATING DISORDERS…..I’M NOT SPOILED YOU ARE JUST VERY ACCOMMODATING.
One of the reasons I was able to go on living with Anorexia and Bulimia for so long, has something to do with me not wanting to get better, but I also believe it was because I was allowed to get away with not getting better.
Every single time I would mess up, no matter how big it was, somebody somehow always managed to clean it up. Here I was always throwing myself into some fire and somebody would drag me out. If I was purposefully making myself drown, somebody always came by with a rescue boat.
As much as this disease is about hurt, and pain, sadness, and sorrow, it is also about lying,deceiving, dishonesty, and mistrust. My eating disorder put my heart on ice, and I literally turned into little devil with a really bad disease.
Eating Disorders are an addiction, and anybody who is an addict will do whatever it takes to keep their disease alive.
For a very long time, there were no consequences for my bad behavior. People would look at me and say..”well she is sick, she has a problem, she’s mentally ill.” They would feel sorry for me, and after awhile I knew how to play the game. I by nature have always been a very charming person, which is what I consider one of my best qualities. However when mixed with a severe eating disorder it makes for a very deadly cocktail.
I could get anything from anybody, I could look them straight in the face and tell a bold faced lie. My eating disorder turned me into somebody who had no values. I became very very selfish, and the villain of my own sad story. I was constantly thinking of ways I could outsmart people and con them into thinking I was doing what I should be.
I really didn’t mean to hurt people,but my taking advantage of them time and time again, I really did.
I could be the sweetest angel, and then in a heartbeat turn into the biggest bitch. Don’t take it personal, it’s just Bulimarexia.
I am a firm believer that if you massage this disease you make it soft. I marinated myself in self pity and had most people playing into it.
After awhile the guilt that I felt for my behavior become callous and I didn’t even have a conscience anymore.
I could take candy from a baby, just so I could eat it myself and then throw it right back up.
When people started to enable me is when I started to get even sicker. Although their intentions were well, little did they realize they were helping me hold the gun up to my head. My maternal grandmother Mimi was one of the closest people I had in my life. I was closer to her and my paternal Grandfather than anybody else in my whole family.
I moved in with her right as my eating disorder was sprouting. By the time ten years had gone by it had blossomed into a full blown nightmare. My grandmother didn’t know what to do, so instead of confronting me on my bullshit, she just threw money at it, cars at it, clothes at it..etc..and then looked the other way.
She was the most beautiful person I have ever known, and I know that I put her through hell. The constant binging and purging, the insane amount of money she was giving me to be spent on fast food drive-thrus, gym memberships,reckless shopping sprees, etc. She handed me with such delicate gloves and treated me like I was fragile. As far as my nervosa was concerned it was a one way ticket to Easy street.
In 1999 she got a severe brain tumor and within a half of a year, we lost her. This is one of the main reasons my father and most of my family doesn’t talk to me. I think they blame me for her getting sick, and although I know somebody can’t give someone a tumor, they have basically disowned me. I wish I could say I was sorry to her for all the pain I caused her. I wish she knew it wasn’t me, that I wasn’t the granddaughter she used to know. I wish everybody else would realize that as well.
After she died, I just found a gazillion other people to take advantage of, using my eating disorder as an excuse. Next door neighbors, boyfriends, boyfriends’ mothers, doctors, nurses..etc. I would get them to all feel like they were helping me. Once I used them and abused them enough, or they got hurt, which ever came first, I moved on to somebody else…there was always somebody else.
I was a spoiled rotten 30 year old anorexic/bulimic who was full of shit, and I knew it.
All that doesn’t make for a very good patient in treatment either, and it’s 99 percent of the reason I got kicked out of the majority of them.
I didn’t go to treatment to get better, I went to stay sick, and many many a time to become sicker.
The only reason I am putting this out there is that although this disease needs to be treated with compassion, it also has a side to it that isn’t very nice. It’s a side that one day you will have to own up to and then whip into shape.
I’ll tell you about some more of my adventures next time, and how to not be like me, or should I say the way I was, especially if you are considering going into treatment…stay tuned!
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