The realm of eating disorders is a thing that we just sweep under the rug and try to ignore. I, personally, suffer from bulimia nervosa. This disorder is characterized by binge eating followed by purging, or throwing it all up. People who suffer from this disorder usually remain a healthy weight but suffer from the worst form of mental torment. There is the constant need to fulfill the social stigma of being skinny and fit, to be muscular, and to have an attractive lover. You are constantly thinking about your weight and when you can next purge. The first thing you think when you wake up is when you can binge and when you can purge. You are thinking about the fact that after you eat you have 12 minutes to purge before your body starts digesting it. Enough about that, time to tell you my story.

This story starts way back in 2006. I was in 3rd grade and was constantly being bullied for my weight. That's when I first started purging. I would do it right after dinner and by the time the school year ended I went from 95 pounds down to 55. I stayed that weight until 6th grade and then I decided to put on 45 pounds to look "healthy" again. I have always been super sensitive about my weight and still am to this day. People with eating disorders usually, if not always, suffer from something called body dysmorphia. It is the view that you as a person are ugly or fat or other negative facts about your body. It is a major crutch and it is very hard to overcome. I, personally, believe that no matter how skinny or "attractive" I am, I am fat and ugly and always will be. I can always be skinnier and by being skinnier I am, in my perspective, more handsome and deserving of love.

Another facet of this story that fuels my bulimia is my practically my non-existent self-confidence. No matter what happens I always feel like a waste of space and an invisible being. Sometimes I struggle with the feelings of being all alone and how it's just me against all the demons in my head. That is one of the most deeply ingrained beliefs at my core. No matter how many friends I have I feel like I am just their friend out of pity and how when I actually call out for help when I am being crushed by the weight of all my stress and depression and the demons from my past they will leave me behind without a second thought. If I shouted at the top of my lungs, "somebody, anybody...help." How many of you would actually help me and not run away? From my past experience everyone leaves you behind at some point. Some just leave sooner than others.

I'm currently so broken I have no clue how to put myself back together. I have become so interdependent I don't know how to be alone anymore. Stress is a daily mess and it never leaves. This is not a cry for help so please don't interpret this as one. This is just a blatant expression of feeling. Writing is my way of saying how I feel without causing any harm to anyone. If this offends you I apologize. This is another part of this dark, hellish, unfathomable inferno called my life. I am not demanding pity by saying all this. In fact, I mean the exact opposite, I am saying all this simply because I want to get it off my chest and be completely open and honest with everybody.