Food is my Friend

I began to discover food as the source of life at the age of 12. It was a love/ hate relationship. I hated to eat because I was afraid of becoming fat and yet I had to eat because if I didn't I would get dizzy and get into fights with those who supposedly cared about me.

This struggle continued from the age of 12 until the age of 32.

I decided that the only way to get over it was to do more. I would show everyone that I was strong and that I could do anything. As I continued to do great things for others, I felt good but then that good feeling went away and I was miserable and alone. I had to decide "do I eat or not eat'?

When I didn't eat I felt lighter but I also got dizzy and felt out of it. When I ate -I picked at my food and ended up eating junk later and slept it off. I never knew who was really my friend because there were so many people who treated me badly, teased me, I felt as though my life was a joke.

There were points when I decided that I could kick this -I was determined. I realized how miserable I was and decided that I had to do something to change that -so I discovered that when I did new and adventurous things I got my excitement and life back. After a while though, the misery came back so I found somewhere else to go.

There were many times when I seriously thought I was going crazy. There were times when my friends thought I was suicidal. I decided that it was not safe to share feelings with others because I will get into trouble if I did.

When I sought help I was told that I was "perfect", that it was "all in my head" or that everyone goes through that. Just eat from all the food groups.

Finally at the age of 31 I was living alone -what a blessing -no one to watch over me, I could do what I wanted. This time I would be fine -I promised myself. Yet, after overeating and bingeing on a box of little Debbie's and ice cream or a half a box of cereal I would run to the cupboard for laxatives. I would pray -Dear God, if you get me through this I promise I will never to do it again. How many times did I break that promise?

My ways of gaining control were not working. I would buy entire bags of binge foods, take them home and throw them away. I would attempt to make myself throw up and yet I couldn't. There are so many others that can do this better. I am such a wuss.

If people really knew how much pain I was in they would freak out. That is one of the main reasons I could never go through with killing myself. I was afraid of what other people would think of me. Then on the other hand I would think about everything I wanted to do in my life. And the fact that I am so afraid of dying, death and life. Life would be so much better with out food and feelings and having friends because then they wouldn't worry about me and I wouldn't feel guilty about letting them down. There was no escape now -isolated in my living room dreading my life. I had to do something ...