“Hi, my name is Aubrey Hill. I suffer from Bulimia. My mom sent me to this support group to try and get help to stop.” I look over at the man with the clip board, waiting for him to say something.
“Now, the real question is do you want to stop?” I sit there as he watches me waiting for an answer.
Now that’s a tough question. Did I want to stop? Did I want to go back to how things used to be a year ago?
I take a deep breath, “Yes, I do.”
He smiles, obviously proud of my answer. “Now tell us how it all started.”
“Bulimia; it’s a nasty disease that I can’t seem to get rid of. A year has gone by since it first started. A year of throwing up everything I eat. A year of trying, unsuccessfully to stop.
I blame it on my dad. If he hadn’t of left us to go be with some girl that’s only a couple years older than me, I wouldn’t have turned to this. When he left, everything went haywire. Nothing went right anymore. Even though I hated him for leaving, I would do anything to have him back. I couldn’t control my dad leaving, but I could control this one part of my life. Right?
It first started out as a diet. I thought I’d lose some weight. Get a better outlook on myself and life. But then it turned to where I wouldn’t eat breakfast anymore. Only lunch and dinner. Then to eating nothing at all. It wasn’t about losing weight anymore. It was about control.
But people started noticing how thin and frail I was getting. They noticed that I never ate. My mom started getting worried. She called the doctor. He told her I had anorexia. She cried for a long time that day. She told me I had to start eating again. I felt horrible for hurting her and did what she said. But that night when I went down stairs to get a glass of water I heard her on the phone with my dad.
She told him about what the doctor said. She started crying again telling him how scared she was. At the end of the conversation I heard her say, “See you tomorrow Tim.”
My dad hadn’t come to see me since the divorce. And now he was coming tomorrow? Even though it hurt my mom, this was the only way to get my dad’s attention. I had to be sick. Have him worried about me. If not eating got him to come see me, well then maybe throwing my food up would get him to stay.
Thinking back now, it was such a stupid idea. He didn’t see me as his little girl anymore like I had wanted him to. He saw me as sad and pathetic. I wish I had never started. But once I did I couldn’t stop. It hurt throwing each meal up. But dad started coming over very day to check on me. I felt like he cared again.
At first, nobody noticed. I was eating, so to them everything was ok. But they didn’t know that when they where clearing the table or doing the dishes that I’d run up to my bathroom and puke my guts out. I started feeling weak. I slept a lot. I constantly had a sore throat. But I didn’t know these were all results of the Bulimia.
Then a couple days ago, my mom finally said something to me. She knew something wrong had been going on for a little while now. But she couldn’t figure out what it was. She said she looked up all my symptoms on the internet and consulted with my doctor.
Her eyes weld up with tears. She took my thin face in her hands that were now shaking. She said she was so sorry and that this was her and dad’s fault. That they should have thought about me before getting a divorce. She said she knew about the Bulimia. She kissed my forehead as I cried and apologized. I never wanted to hurt her or dad.”
I look around to see everyone looking at me. I look from face to face. All of them thin and weary. All struggling with the same thing. Eating disorders had ruined their lives. I didn’t want to be like that.
“So my mom signed me up for this. To talk about it, to be around people that suffer from the same thing.” My eyes start watering, “I don’t care how long it takes, or how hard it’s going to be. I’m going to stop. I refuse to let this disorder take control of my life. I’m only fifteen. I have my whole life ahead of me. And I’m going to live it happy and Bulimia free!”
Everyone around me stands up and starts clapping. The man with the clipboard smiles approvingly at me and stands up to clap along with everyone else. I feel proud of myself. I could do this. I could be happy again. I smile and knowing that one day, Bulimia will just be a thing of the past.