Keeping Control

Bulimia is a condition of excessive eating, then feeling extreme guilt and shame, which makes one have behaviors such as induced vomiting, the use of laxatives, and excessive exercise. I used to have this, but I never lost any weight through these behaviors. In fact, it made me gain weight. My Dad did not make this struggle any better. Just before he died, he said, “I give up. You can get as fat as you want.” That created intense self-hate and guilt. Since he has died, I barely eat at all, and I occasionally give in to binging, which is usually when my emotions are out of control. But I gained the strength I never had before, which is hardly eating at all. I was never able to restrict myself, but his death pushed me over the edge, and I gained strength. Which makes me confused about what I truly have. My behavior now is more like Anorexia, but I occasionally resort to Bulimia behaviors. Since I have hardly eaten, I have lost over 60 pounds. The compliments that I get from my family and past coworkers feed the behavior and make me want to keep doing what I am doing. For most of my adult life, I have been overweight. Now I look like a new person. But my therapist asked me something that made me think. She asked, “At what point will you be satisfied?” The truth is, I have no idea at what point I will be satisfied. My goal as of right now is 108, but will I be happy even then? I am not sure. I don’t think the goal is looking good, but rather having some control. But that is the thing: in trying to keep control, I feel like I am losing control. Lately, it has gotten much worse. Some days have been getting better in the last few days. I am eating some now. But I can’t help but feel like I am losing control. I am watching my weight daily and if I gain even one pound, I will return to my original behaviors. Gas is expensive, so I can only afford to go to the gym three days a week, and that is making me panic. I am willing to give up eating altogether again to go back to going 5 or 6 days a week. If fact, that is probably what I am going to go. I was going to the gym Monday through Friday for at least an hour and a half to two hours. The rush that I got from that is the high I am looking for. They say that you should get at least 30 minutes of exercise a day, but I push myself until I am completely exhausted, which I do think that even my therapist sees as good. But I need to exercise. Even if it means going without food. I am going to write another poem about my feelings….

The mirror looks back

The mirror looks back at me

with evil eyes.

It judges me as fat and ugly,

it is accusing me of my size.

It tells me that I will

 never be good enough.

The mirror is my worst enemy.

This needing perfection is tough.

When I look at the mirror,

I see my dad’s reflection.

Even in his death I am trying,

I still hear his rejection.

When will ever be happy?

In my own skin.

When will I stop hearing his voice?

When will freedom begin?

That’s what I long for.

That’s what I crave.

To be released from this hell,

Before this struggle leads me to my grave.