Posts about Bulimia

Life of the Party

Years ago, before I was introduced to FA and given the option of a new life of sanity, I was invited to a bachelorette party for a friend of my boyfriend. I didn’t really have friends; I didn’t really understand the point, except to prove that I was popular. I thought that friends were like trophies to display or degrees to hang on the wall. I got my fill of being around people at work or at parties, and that was enough. I was only interested in time alone with my food, where I could eat as much as I wanted and whatever I wanted. If friends were people I was supposed to confide in, that was the last thing that I wanted. I certainly wasn’t going to tell them my secrets. The biggest secret was that I was bulimic.  I did everything I could to convince people that I... Continue Reading



Smooth Moves

Joy  and  happiness  were  not  part  of  any  move  before  I  came  into  FA.  When  my  family  moved  when  I  was  a  teenager,  the  only  thing  I  looked  forward  to  was  my  excitement  about  our  refrigerator  being  outside  while  the  kitchen  was  being  remodeled.  This  allowed  me  to  keep  my  sneaking  food  more  anonymous.  I  also  thought  that  I  wouldn’t  eat  as  much  because  it  would  be  more  “work”  to  go  out  in  the  cold  to  get  my  binge  foods,  but  the  weather  didn’t  stop  me.                 I  was  a  horrible  roommate  before  Program  took  over  my  heart  and  my  life.    I  stole  my  roommates’  food  and  took  up  an  unequal  amount  of  fridge  space.  I  binged  on  large  quantities  of  food,  over-exercised,  and  purged  into  the  toilet.  I  was  inconsiderate  and  didn’t  clean  up  after  myself.  I  judged  my  college  roommates  for  eating  what  I  thought  was  more  than ... Continue Reading



The Endless Void

My husband has always said that pain is the greatest motivator. I started FA in so much mental and physical pain. At 5”1’, I weighed 231 pounds (104.8 kilos), was pre-diabetic and on the heart transplant list. I also had a roof over my head, a full belly and loving family and friends. I was not under a bridge, worrying where my next meal would come from, but his was my rock bottom. Living yet dying. I spent years obsessing about food and my weight. I obsessed about when and what to eat. Eat, binge, purge, starve and then a sprinkle of depression with a side of anxiety. The last few years of my addiction, food did not taste good anymore. Hence, the larger bags of foods to sustain the longer binges. The mass amounts of intake turned into purging. I was searching for that joy, the joy food used... Continue Reading



Beyond Bulimia

When I weighed 212 pounds (about 96 kilograms) at age 17-18 years of age, I told myself I would never weigh that much ever again and that I would do anything to get that weight off. I began a diet in which I ate small amounts of protein every other day and I lived on sugarless snacks. I also bit my nails down to the quick until they bled and were infected and painful, but I couldn’t stop. I had to have something in my mouth all the time! My weight came down and I was starving. My dad did the cooking in our family of eight, and he would make big pressure-cooker-size meals. The food would be simmering when I came home from school or work and I just couldn’t resist trying some. But I wouldn’t take just a taste. I remember one day when I ate three or... Continue Reading



Road Trip

I am Susan and I am a food addict. I am just stunned and amazed at the difference that FA has made in my life. I remember when I was a teenager going on a band trip. I was very socially awkward. Being on a bus with all the other kids was especially difficult because there was no place to hide the fact that I didn’t know how to talk to my peers. I would often pretend that I was sleeping or reading, and that would be my excuse to myself as to why I wasn’t talking with the other kids. I was very ashamed of my near-muteness. I read and “slept” all the way from Oregon to Canada and back. I was a big pretender– fine on the outside, lonely and ashamed on the inside. Somewhere around my early twenties I went on a camper road trip with my... Continue Reading