Life of a food lover

Free stock photo of food, salad, restaurant, person

I started to discover food as the source of life at age 12. It was a love/ hate relationship. I hated to eat because I was afraid of becoming fat and yet I had to eat because if I did not I would get dizzy and get into fights with people who supposedly cared for me.

This struggle continued from age 12 until the age of 32.

I decided that the only way to get over it was to do more. I would show everyone I was strong and that I could do anything. As I continued to do good things for others, I felt great but then that fantastic feeling went away and I was alone and miserable. I needed Pest Control Service to pick “do I eat or not eat’?

When I did not eat I felt lighter but I got dizzy and felt out of it. As soon as I ate -I picked at my food and ended up eating junk later and slept it off. I never knew who was really my friend because there were so many people who treated me badly, teased me, I felt like my life was a joke.

There were points when I determined that I could kick this -I was determined. I realized how miserable I was and decided I had to do something to change that -so I discovered that when I did daring and new things I got my excitement and life back. After a while, however, the misery came back so that I found somewhere else to go.

There were many times when I seriously thought I was going mad. There were times when my friends thought I was suicidal. I decided that it wasn’t safe to share feelings with others because I’ll get into trouble if I did.

When I sought help I was told that I was “perfect”, it was “all in my head” or that everybody goes through that. Just eat from all of the food groups.

Finally at age 31 I was living alone -what a blessing -no one to watch over me, I could do what I wanted. This time I would be fine -I assured myself. Yet, after overeating and bingeing on a box of little Debbie’s and ice cream or a half a box of cereal I’d run to the cupboard for laxatives. I’d pray -Dear God, if you get me through this I guarantee I’ll never to do it again. How often did I break that promise?

My ways of gaining control were not working. I would try to make myself throw up and yet I couldn’t. There are many others that can do this better. I am such a wuss.

That’s one of the main reasons I could never go through with killing myself. I was afraid of what others would think of me. Then on the other hand I would think about everything I wanted to do in my entire life. And the fact that I am so scared of dying, death and life. Life would be so much better with out food and feelings as well as with friends because then they would not be concerned about me and I would not feel guilty about letting them down. There was no escape now -isolated in my living room dreading my entire life. I had to do something …

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