Week One --

**Warning - a tad graphic and very honest**

Wow it has been a week, and a heck of a ride.
Really thankful for the people who love and support me through this, because food can make me crazier than a bag of hammers and if I didn't have people to hang on to, I'd certainly be long lost by now I think.

A lil' over a week ago, I did the unimaginable. I not only binged, but purged. Really thought I was long passed that, but what I learned this week (finally) after three years is that I won't ever be passed any of it. I am a bulimic, a binger, a compulsive overeater and am living with an addiction to food which consumes me just like any other addiction.

The two days prior I was working on abstinence and getting back to my program. I felt like a druggie in withdrawal with the sweats, the shakes, the obsessing and self-abuse. I would circle that kitchen with a vengeance, I was angry and hateful and the behaviours were in full swing. A few moments in those two days I was standing with the fridge open, tears flowing and crying like a baby because I felt starving despite having just eaten a meal. What was the difference ? I had a portioned meal and had no way to make me feel better unless I was stuffing myself til I made myself sick. Then, I was making a healthy dinner and suddenly I lost myself. I binged so hard that night, and ate three meals worth in about 5 minutes flat, complete with random other things from the fridge and pantry.

I stood there hanging on to the counter fully proud of myself but feeling so terribly full. I didn't care, I wanted more. As I opened the fridge door I suddenly felt the wave of guilt pass over me, and the tears starting to flow. I had such a good two days of portioning and trying so hard and I threw it all away. I felt so stuffed and angry at myself, and then on came the abusive self-talk. 'You're fat, ugly, disgusting, pathetic.......'

Immediately I went to the bathroom and purged everything I ate that night, or darn near close. The scary part of having done so was the amount of blood I was bringing up. I was diagnosed as bulimic at a very young age, and didn't see signs of blood until my later teen years, but in small bits. That increased some over adulthood until my doctor found me out and then I binged only with no purging for many years. About six or seven years ago, I began purging again occasionally until 2011 when I finally jumped on the OA bandwagon and began to help myself. The scary part wasn't all of the blood I was bringing up, however. The scary part was that I didn't care that I was bringing up all of this blood. I wanted that food out of me and I was stopping at nothing with no regard whatsoever for my health in that moment. I have lost my teeth, my nails are brittle, my hair has thinned considerably and have bald spots that I try hard to cover and I have many inner issues due to my years and years of food abuse and purging. Not to mention the mental challenges doing this to myself has caused me between the depression, the physical self-abuse and harm, the self-bullying, low self-esteem, etc. Yet, here I am once again at 41 years of age *still* with that inner instinct to say fuck my health and get this food I just binged out of my system. And then the feelings and the behaviours that come with doing exactly that.

Needless to say I was an emotional mess that night. I showered, got in my jammies and laid in bed for hours with the covers over my head in this distant place full of self-hate, guilt and embarrassment. I cried so hard countless times I almost made myself sick all over again. The shame and the hurt that are attached to the way I abuse my body repetitively.

It was that night, however, that I finally placed all doubts aside. I knew in my heart and soul that after 33 years of food abuse and purging, and three years of being in OA without really being present in program to *truly* help myself that I finally knew and accepted that yes I am clearly VERY powerless over food - and this is going to be an ongoing journey. I won't beat it, I won't do away with any of it, it will always be a part of me and I will always have the ability to use food just like any other addict would of their drug of choice. And so, I humbly stepped down off my pedestal where I once thought I knew it all, and thought I had complete control.

That next morning I embarked on the journey I have been seeking all along. Small steps towards a healthy, happy life. I have so many more steps to take, and things to learn, but this first week has been one of amazing clarity, the beginnings of inner peace and a yearning for growth, self-acceptance and self-love.

I'm ready.  Everything I thought I knew I am setting aside.  I am starting with a renewed hope and an open mind.  All learned knowledge in these passed three years aren't worthless, but definitely open to change over this next while.  And everything in my 41 years will soon become learning blocks of the girl i am today who is strong, fierce and ready to let go of the hurt, find forgiveness and move forward to a brand new beginning to a life I have held myself back in for far, far too long.

Peace friends.