eds_over18 (original) (raw)

2 days booze free. I've sobered myself enough to realize why I was binge drinking so much. See, I'm not this massive alcoholic like I thought I was for a minute there; no, I'm actually not an alcoholic at all. I was just drinking in completely abserd amounts in order to have guilt free binge/purge cycles. I hate bulimia with a passion, having been bulimic for years and relapsing into anorexia I can say that in my experience anorexia has always been easier for me. Mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually, anorexia has been the lesser of two horrible diseases. Though both have completely fucked my body up, bulimia ruined my teeth, my throat, my stomach, everything. one of my back molars is crumbling a little more each day because of the stomach acid, and my teeth are permanently at a shade of gray because there isn't any enamel left to keep them from slight transparency.

The binge is the ultimate act of self-loathing to me, stuffing my gullet with food that I know is essentially poison, as furiously and quickly as I possibly can. My last binge started as soon as I decided to go from tipsy to drunk. The plotting and planning, the shaking in my hands, the nervous sweat beading on my eyebrow as I downed my 5th tequila shooter. I hailed a cab, made small talk, passed by Vancouver General Hospital - a very familiar and unsettling sight - and told the cabby to drop me off at an intersection where I knew there was a McDonalds. I asked him to drop me off in the Alley, next to an apartment entrance where I said I would wait for my friends to buzz me up. I don't know why I lied, I was drunk, he was paid and tipped generously, but somehow I felt ashamed as if he knew I was just a junkie looking for a fix. I waited until he drove off then made my way into the McDonalds. It was rainy outside, windy, and already coming up on 1 am. I knew I should have just gone home, but the entire time I was in the cab I was thinking to myself "It's okay, you'll just throw it all up when you get home, it's okay. It's okay." Thank god no one was in there other than the staff and myself, because I knew I would be stumbling in there reeking of booze and placing an unbelievably large order for just one person. I had to make it look like it wasn't just for me, so that the bubbly blond 17 year old girl at the counter wouldn't judge me. I pulled out my cell phone and pretended to be reading it, so she would think I was ordering from a text message.

4 cheese burgers with extra pickles.
one medium fries
one large fries
Packets of mayonnaise on the side

"Could you please put those in three separate bags for me?"

Like it even mattered. She offered me a 4 piece chicken mcnugget box for one dollar extra, a special they were having. Why did she have to do that.

"Sure, as you've probably deduced I live with stoners, so it'll get eaten."

She laughed. Thank Christ that girl laughed and it was genuine too, so she bought it. She didn't think the order was just for me to eat in shame. I shoved the food in my backpack and ran out to hail another cab. I could have bussed home, but I needed to get there quick so that I would still be nauseated from all of the booze. It would help me to purge with more ease, or at least less violently attack my gag reflex. I got home and ate nearly everything. I was half a cheese burger away from the finish line when my head started to spin. three hours later I woke up still drunk and halfway to a massive hangover, with an intense pain in my stomach and realized that I had passed out before I had the chance to get everything up. Anxiety ran through me. Heavy waves of shame and disgusted washed over my entire body. It was too late to do anything about it.

I didn't get out of bed for two days.
I drank, ate very little, and threw up a mostly liquid stomach contents for the next couple of days after that. Yesterday's hangover was familiar. The early morning purge of bile was familiar. The vodka smell that filled the bathroom was anything but comforting. I was done. Yesterday was day one. Today was day two. I had two successful days without binging or purging, or without purging minus the binge. I ate healthily. I ate 3 meals. I had 2 snacks. I rinsed and repeated today. Only I ate less today. Back into my comfortable safe routine.

Saw my psychiatrist today and realized that the last two weeks of drinking, binging and purging have arisen as a result of my break up with Sean. Our relationship was so negative and dramatic that it kept me distracted from how much I hate myself. I hated him so much that I didn't have time to think about just how much I hate who I am.

I'm not drinking for a month, as I said before (but now am acting on), eating a healthier consistent diet, and then gradually reducing the calories. It feels so much safer to get even a small amount of distance from the bulimia monster.