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Bulimic Catch 22

Imagine that you've got a guest over for dinner. The problem is, you know that she's bulimic, and you don't want her to purge, to hurt herself.

If you cook dinner for her, likelihood is that she'll eat it and purge it. But, if you don't cook any dinner, she won't eat at all that evening (bulimirexic), or will binge/purge later (pure bulimic). Whichever move you make, there's no win. Catch 22.

I wonder if this is how my mother, who has knowledge of my bulimia, feels when she cooks for me ....

Curiosity Kills

Every bulimic has heard of ipecac. In any lengthy piece of literature about bulimia, abuse of syrup of ipecac will be mentioned. It seems like the perfect solution. One spoonful of this, and you puke your guts up. Much better than the water weight you lose on laxatives, much easier than spending ages bent over the bog with your finger down your throat, hoping against hope that you get it all up - this does it for you, and you'll puke until there's nothing left.

You know the warnings. You know that it can kill. But also, you know that you binge, and you can't keep it down. Especially when your finger stops working .... ipecac is The Way.

I personally remember buying my first packet of Senokot. The woman at the counter looked me up and down, and said, "these are only for occasional use". I felt a triumph in that, as in, "this woman's so thin that she must have an eating disorder". When thinking about going to the pharmacy to buy real ipecac, it's not like they can stop me because I'm too thin, that's hardly legal - but they'd stand there trying to. Also, I don't know if ipecac is sold in the UK. So I ordered online. Typically, without breaking the bank on a massive first aid kit with a tiny bottle of the syrup, I couldn't find any - but my curiosity, like ipecac itself, was killer.

First of all, cough syrup containing a minuscule amount of ipecacuanha does not work as an emetic. It isn't potent enough to make you do any more than gag a bit. (Oh yes, and a lot of dribbling. My mouth was like a waterfall.) On the plus side, it treats your cough, it tastes nice, and a low, dilute amount is nowhere near as dangerous as the poison control would be. But to be honest, danger wasn't high on my list of priorities, taste even further down, and I don't even have a cough. Getting my lunch up was what I wanted.

And so, ipecac. What have I achieved? I've got my badge of honour saying "I tried ipecac", but what good is a badge of honour when I don't want anyone to see it?

If you got hold of poison control ipecac, you may have thrown up. A lot. The black and white "down and up" won't have been as easy as you thought. You may have been really ill, and had to go to hospital. I may not have tried real syrup of ipecac, but I've read enough on it, and felt the desperation to use it so much so that cough syrup was "worth buying". (Yup, my futile attempt at recovery's going great.) Curiosity kills. Literally.

Holding My Own

This is the strongest thing I've done in a long time ....
I went to see my nurse today for a routine appointment. She knew nothing of my bulimia, scratched throat and laxative abuse, until today. I didn't say much, but I said something. She promised to get me in contact with a counsellor in their eating disorders unit. I've had bad experience with therapy in the past, either telling me that the waiting list is forever long, or sticking me with someone who might as well be pouring ipecac down my throat for all the use they are. But I trust this medical team's judgement, very much so.

Because bulimia - I want to end it. I currently don't mind whether I do it the same way I gave up smoking, just throw away all the binge foods and laxatives; get off it all piece by piece, limb by limb, and go through all the reasoning why I turned to senna; or get manhandled into some hospital or care home to be treated. I just want to kick it out of my life, and know that if I try to do it by myself, I'll just get worse. Get new ideas. (I started off with - "Why don't I make myself throw up? Only occasionally, just as backup." and it escalated to - "Even at this dose, senna isn't helping me lose weight; why not order some ipecac? I'll take no more than the recommended dose, and no more often than it says!")

The anorexia side of bulimirexia has always been the same. Be thin - specifically, 94lbs/6st10 (even my goal has remained the same). Lose weight. Don't eat much, and when you do, keep it low on calories. Caffeinate. Exercise. Nothing ever changed, it has always seemed so safe .... but with bulimia, things have escalated from occasional purging to dangerous levels. Anorexia is my comfort zone; bulimia is so far out of that zone that I'm afraid - petrified - of what I might do.

Seven Six

I feel that today is a good day to start this - why?

I didn't go to the optician today because "I feel fat". I didn't work on my NaNoWriMo outline, despite today being my last chance, because "I feel fat". I didn't get on the treadmill today because "I feel fat". (I know that doesn't make much sense, but it does to me - I just feel too sluggish and pointless.) Yup, one of those horrible days when the numbers on the scales dictate everything. Too many of them, I say.

I was looking at my weights. (I feel fat, I might as well tell you all how fat.) My goal is 94lbs, my current is 104 .... arg, I was 101 last week, what have I been doing wrong?
Highest and lowest? I've always counted my highest as 8st10 and my lowest as that elusive, beautiful seven six, 7st6, which is the lowest I'll ever be and a mini-goal in itself. So 8st10 is 122, and 7st6 is 104 - hang on. Didn't I just say that I was 101 last week - and 104 today? So I'm at my mini-goal, and yet still feel like I'm taking up too much space where there should be air.

I looked at a snippet from one of my old song lyrics (not great writing, but it's positive) -
You've seen me stand on the scale
Over eight stone and I fail
Hunger was a quick fix
Got me down to seven six
By then my brain had set sail

But now it's come back here with no fear
I'm on my feet I need to eat
After 18 months of famine
And I never thought that I would say this again
But I'm thin thin thin

So, back in t'day, after the first 18 months of my ED - at a higher weight than now, in a happier mood, I could write a song lyric mentioning 104, or "seven six", as being too thin .... so why, at seven six, am I now too fat to go out and have my eyes tested, or write some story outline or even do a workout?

I guess this is what it feels like.

Welcome to BTDAT!

This is a blog called "Breakfast the day after tomorrow.", by bikz and anyone else who wants to contribute. It'll be explained later why it's called BTDAT.

This is an archive of my ramblings, rather than just a personal LiveJournal. The articles on BTDAT will contain more length (and, hopefully, more sense) than my personal journal.

I'll make the entries non-private when I've written a few things.

-bkx.

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Jasey Rae
btdat
Breakfast the day after tomorrow.

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