There was a time in my life that I was so deeply lost in bulimia, that I was sure it would kill me. I was constantly pushing the fear of dying to the back of my mind. When I went to sleep at night, I would always pray that I would wake up in the morning. I would promise myself that tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow I wouldn’t binge and purge.
In fact, I have forgotten. I can’t even remember how to have a binge urge. My chipmunk cheeks have dissappeared, I no longer obssess over food and I smile because I’m happy, not because I’m trying to hide something. It’s was a wonderful feeling to permanently turn off those psychotic voices which told me to eat all time ( I’ll talk about this more in the story below ).