Did you know that...

Everytime I say that I always feel like Bill Nye the science guy.

Anyhoo.. last night Murouge and I went to On the Border for some dinner and late night studying after our 1st midterm. We ate and I mean we ate. We had tortilla chips and salsa and then we each had a meal. Murouge and mahi mahi tacos and I had some fajita burrito thing. After I was about half way through my meal I knew I was full I knew it. I told myself to stop. I really did, put the fork down and everything. But then I realized I had a couple choices. I could bring the rest home and risk being yelled at by Justin for spending my money on food, I could leave the rest and let it be thrown away or I could finish it. Really I guess I don't like myself and didn't want to burden anyone else so I ate the rest. I felt sick to my stomach. Then the waitress comes and asks if we want dessert. Did I? No, hell no I'm full as hell my stomach hurts. Murouge, however felt a little differently. She said sure we can split it. So that's what we did, we had the turtle brownie with vanilla ice cream on top.

On the way home I was feeling sick and all I wanted to do was throw up. I used to feel like that a lot. When I hated myself, the only thing that would make me feel better was to eat and then throw it back up. It was almost orgasmic the feeling of the food leaving my body. I loved that feeling and it loved me too, it was addicting. I used to throw up about 5-6 times a day, multiple times each time until everything was out. It sounds so sick and every bullimic thinks its disgusting. That's why they try to hide it, bad breath, vomit reeking fingertips, clean the bathroom with bleach everytime, air freshener, perfume. Anything to hide it, keep it concealed, because its special, its unique, and it keeps you going, it keeps you happy, it keeps you pleased. I loved that feeling.

The only reason I stopped: Justin. Justin told me he would leave me if I continued to do that to myself. So I stopped. I missed it, like a long lost friend I missed it. I kept on eating but I just didn't get rid of it. I just kept gaining weight. Everytime I was sad, mad, hurt, or happy. I would eat.

That's my story of how I got to where I am today.

Lately Justin and I have been fighting and I want my old friend back. I want that feeling, last night as I was driving home from the restuarant I could feel that old familiar tickle in the back of my throat that wanted to be stroked. I needed it so bad. I could make this weight loss thing so easy with just one finger. Quite literally actually. But I don't want to give up so easily I want to win this long fight. I want to know that I won, that I wasn't defeated, that I tried and fought and won the hardest battle of my life.