christine4

wow. so I've just been reading everyone's posts for the last hour, and been crying at my computer...I'm 21, and I've been bulimic for a little over a year. Nobody knows...and it all stems from perfectionism...I'm a psychology major at a top Ivy, and I know everything there is to know about disorders...I work with children with severe emotional and behavioral problems, I plan to get my PHD after taking a few years off...I'm incredibly interested in the mind...and yet knowledge does nothing. I can't stop. It all started last winter/spring. I'm an athlete, and my lifting program had gotten me pretty strong, but I was bulked up more than I was used to...and going for farther and farther distances and better times extends itself to getting leaner and leaner...so the protein diet that I was on extended itself to purging when I didn't eat perfectly...and I did get leaner. It started as a way to just stop eating. Or throw up just that last bit off accidental ice cream that I ate. And then it slowly spiraled out of control...I could always stop...I just didn't want to...and then I started eating because I knew that I could throw it all back up. That, I think, was the turning point. And I start eating something unhealthy...and then there's a point of no return...I can't stop and I know I'm going to purge, so why stop if it's going to come up anyway? So I eat faster and faster and faster until I'm eating on my way to the bathroom and then throw it up...and I can't stop. And it's scary, because nobody knows or guesses. And I've started stealing food from other common rooms, because I won't buy anything unhealthy, but crave it late at night...so I go on raids for chocolate, cake, etc., which adds to the guilt. And it's usually only at night--sometimes dinner, but I've gotten much better than that. The day's fine--I'm walking around, practicing down at the track, I feel healthy, energetic...but then it hits 10 or 11 at night and I still have hours of work in front of me that I don't want to do and so eat instead to procrastinate...writing papers is the worst...all nighters are hell. never fails. it's stress--I know this. and wanting to be perfect...I can trace it back. People wonder why there are so many eating disorders at schools like this...it's because everyone has such high expectations of themself...academic, athletic, social...and I can trace it back to my mom. Never good enough for her...love her, but of course I'll never be as responsible as my yale graduate genius IQ brother living in Paris and Brazil and getting lumps of gov't money to do independent Artificial Intelligence research with a frickin poly sci degree, acting like he's 30 though he's only 23...two years older than me and yet 10 years older...I haven't ever told anyone any of this and just need to vent and know that someone out there is hearing me, even though (hopefully!) I don't know you. I can't just keep it in any longer. God this sucks--I"m supposed to be perfect--that's the point, and yet bulimia isn't perfect. I'm the always happy, optimistic friend...that's the face. I am pretty happy...there's just this little thing. And often it's like it's somebody else...Nothing's WRONG with me. There can't be anything wrong with me. I've always been normal--on top of things. successful. Always at the top of the class...top of the nation...How could someone who's one of the top hammer throwers in the country and do 15 pullups in a row have a serious dietary disorder? Every day my self esteem and self image is based on how I look...everything hinges on it. And the only time any of this goes away is when I see my boyfriend, who goes to school 4 states away...I see him for a few weeks at a time, and i eat perfectly healthy, drop approximately 5 pounds, feel happy and on air and don't even really THINK about food--or at least I don't wonder whether I'm hungry or not--I feel normal and in control all of the time, and I'm just happy. Everything melts away. And then we part, and real life comes back with everything with it...I'm partly staying in this relationship just because he's like a psychologist, even though I don't let him in on any problems...he just somehow takes the worry and stress away and makes me a normal human being. Why am I so frickin' messed up? I need to stop. Maybe writing this--making it concrete--will make it stop. I need to get in CONTROL. I need to relax, stop expecting so much of myself...but drive is good. Except when it's directed in unhealthy ways...where can I redirect it? It's already focused on everything else in my life. (ok--I"m done rambling. Have I set a record for longest post? hehe...just neede to vent...god people are going to read this. hope no one I know...) I'm really glad I found this site. I"m not alone. ok. sending. ack.