I’m bulimic. I have an eating disorder

It’s taken me five sessions to admit this. I always told myself that I didn’t force myself to throw up enough times to be considered bulimic, as if bulimia could be quantified. I used to fool myself into thinking I was okay because I could count the number of times I threw up on my two hands. But eventually, I surpassed ten, and eventually I stopped counting. Even though it didn’t happen much and it didn’t happen often, I could feel myself losing control.

I remember the day I realized I needed help. I was eating lunch with my grandma and I remember planning to throw up as soon as I got home, before we even finished eating. Before then, I had only done it on whim. I would do it when my fear of weight gain was too overwhelming. I had never planned on doing it in the middle of a meal. I was worried that it would become a daily habit.

The next week, I decided to call Mr. Oden’s office and I scheduled an appointment. The most interesting thing about therapy is that we rarely talk about food or my eating habits. With Mr. Oden’s help, I’ve really been looking at my life in general and seeing how past experiences have shaped the person I am today. In the last session, Mr. Oden kept telling me that bulimia does not define me. I think this is why I can finally admit that I am bulimic, I have an eating disorder. I never used that word to describe myself even in my head. But I know that in doing so, I can finally move past it.


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