Falling down...

It's kind of agrivating, to have my mother discussing my live with her therapist, and for her to find out my secrets (my mother not the therapist).

She had been talking with T regarding my constant nausia and vomiting, the one my doctor couldn't diagnose, as well as my tirednes and apparent 'down' mood. T diagnosed me as bulimic, which is kind of intresting to do without even meeting me.

Too bad she wasn't off the mark. I am bulimic. I binge on food, then promptly throw it up. I get depressed seeing myself in a mirror or photograph and I don't eat until I'm so hungry (usually several days later) that I start the cycle all over again, and the only thing that changes is the fact I'm more depressed then when I started.

I've been this way for over a year, though I had indications of it before. It's genetic, my mother was anorexic, even my sister was bulimic (though she was adopted so maybe it was subconcious influence there).


I can't stand to look at myself, I find it a hidious sight, which is why I have no mirrors (except the two in the bathroom) and rarely allow pictures of myself. I would rather hide away in my room/house, then inflict others with the sight of me.

All I want is to be thin...to be good-looking...to be worth something.

Falling down…

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

It’s kind of agrivating, to have my mother discussing my live with her therapist, and for her to find out my secrets (my mother not the therapist).

She had been talking with T regarding my constant nausia and vomiting, the one my doctor couldn’t diagnose, as well as my tirednes and apparent ‘down’ mood. T diagnosed me as bulimic, which is kind of intresting to do without even meeting me.

Too bad she wasn’t off the mark. I am bulimic. I binge on food, then promptly throw it up. I get depressed seeing myself in a mirror or photograph and I don’t eat until I’m so hungry (usually several days later) that I start the cycle all over again, and the only thing that changes is the fact I’m more depressed then when I started.

I’ve been this way for over a year, though I had indications of it before. It’s genetic, my mother was anorexic, even my sister was bulimic (though she was adopted so maybe it was subconcious influence there).

I can’t stand to look at myself, I find it a hidious sight, which is why I have no mirrors (except the two in the bathroom) and rarely allow pictures of myself. I would rather hide away in my room/house, then inflict others with the sight of me.

All I want is to be thin…to be good-looking…to be worth something.