My Bucket of Lies

Bulimia is a nasty and vile eating disorder.  The Webster's dictionary is much more politically correct in their definition, but that's my take on it after having dealt with bulimia since I was 15.

I don't really remember the first time I purged.

But I remember the start of it came during my dance days at Milwaukee Ballet School--Waukesha.  I had a teacher who would poke me in the tummy/side with her pointer and call me fat. Tell me I needed to lose weight to be on stage.  You know, all the encouraging stuff an insecure teen pretending to be secure needs to hear.

And so. I began to puke up my food.

Occasionally at first.  An empty stomach was a flat stomach.  It actually started to feel better when my tummy was empty.

At some point, and I don't know when....it became an everyday thing.  An every meal thing. If I could.  And it wasn't just about losing weight or keeping thin...by then the addiction had set in.

Heading to the bathroom after every meal can be suspicious....so you go to your room...and you keep a bucket of puke in the back of the closet, like a crude, rotten secret constantly reminding you of both your weakness and need for control.

My sister found it one day. The bucket. Now that's a special kind of shame. Standing before your sister and mother with your bucket of lies on the floor in between you.  This is late 80s....just the start of awareness and often wrapped up in an after school special where all's well that ends well.  So I promised to stop. And that it was about losing weight and my stupid dance teacher.  Which...well it was.  But it was also about more.

And I did try to stop. And I did for awhile.  But it started back up.  And I just got better at hiding it.

My freshman year of college I was in Chicago studying musical theater and dance. Crazy days full of so much fun. And bulimia?  Well, that was pretty common actually. Definitely not celebrated or encouraged...but it was just kind of understood that some people binged and purged.  And so I was able to resume a pretty consistent pattern.  Also, it didn't hurt that I had dance class once, sometimes twice in a day....which began a pretty good behavior of control as well.

When I was 19 and found out I was pregnant...I had morning sickness just about the entire 9 months. This was not fun...but did help me stop binging and purging.

When it resumed around 21...that draw (with lack of better way to describe it)...and was not having any kind of weight issue....and not having any outside ridicule for my body....I realized that it was not something that I could just 'stop'.  In fact, it became more than just binging and purging. I realized that even if I wasn't feeling like I wanted to binge and purge, my body almost naturally wanted to if I overate even a little...say at a party or cook out.

As the years continued on....I eventually stopped binging and purging.  With a child it made it a little difficult to sneak off to the bathroom. That girl didn't let you sneak anywhere!  But the mind control stayed in play. 

I'd say the last time I binged and purged...I was likely around 25.  And for a long time I thought of it as behind me because of that fact.  Sure, I had residual things....like almost no enamel on my teeth and severe damage to my esophagus (really that fact that I can still sing is God's mercy on me) but I was healed of this nasty and vile disorder.

But here's the truth.

There are still stolen moments....when that dark place that holds that desire for control...that holds that desire for escape....and the need to pretend that reality isn't real....that I pause. And think...how easy would that be to get that release. 

It's but a moment.  And so fleeting.  Because I have so many other, healthier ways of handling stress and anxiety now.

But I made me reflect on what being 'healed' is. I don't know that it's stepping out of a situation or being cured of...a behavior....an emotion...an addiction...a disorder and never, ever doing it again.  I may not ever binge and purge again...but it doesn't mean that I couldn't step back into that world again.

For me, I am healed from the pain and self loathing that created such a storm.  I am healed from the stigma and hiding and shadows.  I am healed from pretending. 

****If you have bulimia or know someone who does. Talk about it. Face it. Do not hide it in the shadows. Do not express disgust as they try to put words to this.  Do not get angry if you can't stop. But do get help. It can be so so serious. You can do irreparable damage to your body. You can die. And the world needs the unique, beauty that God created you to be, so you must get help.****


There's no time like today to come out of the shadows.  There's plenty of us here to hold your hand if you'd like.

That's what I got today.