Disclaimer. I have been talking about vomiting and puke for the past 7 years and it no longer really phases me to do so. When you've put yourself through some of the situations I have you realize when you begin puking in essence you throw your dignity up with it. I really don't use a filter for this post for this is about the physical beginnings of Ed. No pressure what so ever to read beyond this paragraph, because I can see from an outside source how this could just be nasty.
I actually claimed to have an eating disorder before it actually happened. The problem was I really liked a guy, and I had a bit of damsel in distress going on. I figured maybe if he felt sorry for me and my problems, maybe he would like me more. In retrospect, it seems like a really stupid idea. None the less, at 16 years old after a Warped Tour concert I was sitting at a park with my two best guy friends. We were sipping on 3 dollar vodka and somehow the topic of messed up lives got brought up. My one friend, "J" knew that I had been struggling with depression and self image but "D" did not. Feeling overly confident from the vodka I told them both what I was feeling, and that I had started puking in an attempt to get some weight off. This was a Tuesday night.
By Sunday, this was a reality. I had spent all day at my Aunt's house eating junk, but for the most part enjoying the company of my family. No feelings attached to weight, or food, or anything else of the matter. It was after we left my Aunt's that my dad and sisters decided to meet my mom and some family friends at the pool where a cookout had been planned. I drove separate because I probably intended to meet "D" after. I wasn't that hungry when we got to the pool because I was still full from a day of junk, but before me sat so many food items that I just couldn't say no to. I couldn't help myself, I ate, and ate, and ate until I decided I needed to leave the pool. I hadn't heard from "D" so I drove back to my house where I had it to myself. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed about all I had eaten and couldn't imagine getting on the scale the next day and seeing the results. Looking back here is the pivotal moment in my life where Ed entered in, this is the moment where I took matters into my own hands and never looked back. Remembering what I had told the boys that past Tuesday, I decided to give puking a whirl. I sat by my toilet and for the next 30 minutes attempted to get all my dinner to come up. It was hard. Forcing myself to throw up was not as easy as I had anticipated. Little bits would come up at a time after every few heaves and all I told myself was this wasn't good enough, my stomach had to be empty. It hurt, my stomach was in pain, but in the end I got a feeling I didn't expect... satisfaction. I expected relief, knowing that the scale wouldn't show the damage I had done with dinner, but Satisfaction? By emptying my stomach my body would have to get its nutrition elsewhere, by principal, it would have to lose weight. Could what I did really jump start my weight loss goals? That was August 22, 2004: I weighed approximately 173 pounds.
By May 27, 2005 I weighed 124. And so my battle with addiction began...
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