Why I stopped purging

Yep, the elephant in the room.  I know I’ve spoken about it very briefly in the past, but there was a time when ED introduced me to purging.  When I started the program at TGH and they were basically shoving my face full of food I freaked.  So, I listened to the others in the group who were bulimic and thought – I can do that.

And I did.  It was gross.  It was messy.  It was just ugh.  Not like overdosing on laxatives is any better, trust me – but there is something very dirty and secretive about hiding in a washroom and shoving your fingers down your throat to make yourself vomit.  Your face gets swollen, your eyes become bloodshot and you look like shit immediately.

I’ll never forget this day.

I was in the washroom and my son came to the door.

“Mom, are you almost done in there?”

“What do you need honey?”

“My homework is a bit confusing, can you come help me?”

“Sure, I’ll be out in 10 minutes.”

That 10 minutes turned into 30 because, well I had to finish what I was doing.

After I was done I looked at my dishevelled face in the mirror and started to bawl.  Hysterically.  What the fuck????  My son needed my help with his homework and I couldn’t help him because I was too busy making myself vomit.  Are you kidding me?  What the fucking hell is wrong with you Lisa?  I stared long and hard at myself and decided I wouldn’t do that ever again.  I refused to give up precious time with my son because I was doing something so gd awful.

 

 

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