21. August 2014 by swissfitchick
If you missed out on the first part of the story, check it out here. – the childhood and anorexia.
So, I was 18 years old and after the check up with the doc, I knew I have to start eating again if I didn’t want to lose my life. This might be hard to understand, but I was SO relieved that FINALLY a professional person who I TRUSTED gave me the OK to eat. It was what I needed – someone I really, really trust to tell me that it is OK to eat.
Hahaha, omg that POSE.
So I slowly started to increase my amounts of food and started to enjoy foods I loved again. It was so hard – letting go off the control and seeing the weight going up. I struggled a LOT. But there was something that outshined the struggle and the fear of gaining weight – the way I felt. My energy came back and I felt like LAUGHING again (I sometimes couldn’t really laugh anymore cause I was so weak and had no coremuscles whatsoever), I slept so much better and I was vitalized during the day. I wasn’t myself yet, but I started to feel a lot more like myself again – still way too skinny (for me and my taste), but an adventurous bundle of energy which is my temper.
‘Funny’ thing was that the relationship to my boyfriend ended in a very similar way like the one just a few months ago. With getting back into life and feeling strong, I kind of outran him and didn’t ‘need’ him anymore like the way I did during the sickness. We broke up only about 2 months after my start of recovering from anorexia after being together for almost 3,5 years.
But it wasn’t over at all. I started to binge. I had no idea what was happening, but every time I came home from a night out, I walked up to the kitchen and ate a lot of food. It was superscary for me to be overwhelmed by this behavior and not knowing how to control it. Bingeing is so dominant and I felt completely pilot-controlled. Losing control – my nightmare.
I want to cut this phase e little shorter. I binged on and off. Remember, I never really faced or reflected the cancer story of my Dad, nor the other issues we had in our family. So of course these things bothered me – but instead of reaching out for support, I covered these emotions with food. I had days and weeks where I didn’t binge and then I had phases when I binged more. I compensated with restrictive eating – I didn’t know how to purge, so I just didn’t eat for a few days. Which lead to bingeing again – obviously. I felt so ashamed of this behavior and as I knew it, I didn’t talk to anyone. I binged secretly and struggled on my own.
At the age of 19, I went to California for 4 months to study English, together with my friend. A new place, new foods, new people. I wasn’t as confident as today and didn’t really dare to just go to a gym or for a run – means, I didn’t workout for 4 months. The bingeing didn’t go away, ESPECIALLY with the feeling of guilt because of not working out and all the insecurities which appeared being away from home.
I gained a lot of weight. And I am SCARED to post these pics today, as I never showed them to anyone before except my friend who was with me in Cali.
I hated myself. Everything about myself. I hated being ‘fat’, a failure, cause I didn’t manage to control my food intake, I hated myself for not being disciplined enough to workout and I felt so unbelievably ashamed returning home looking like THIS. It was the worst moment for me to face my family and friends, seeing their shocked faces about my weight gain. HORRIBLE. Still, I didn’t talk to anyone about it.
Right when I returned home from my USA trip, I came together with a new man. He treated me sweet and nice for the first 3 months, until I moved in with him into his appartment. From that moment on, I was caught. He was insanely jealous and wouldn’t let me do the things I loved so much – being out with my friends, visiting my family – being YOUNG. He was 10 years older and felt the need to dominate me. He demanded that I lose all that ugly weight and that I dress like a ‘grown-up’ and that I only go out with him, if so. It was SO irritating for me, yet I fell for him and didn’t dare to leave him. Being with him made me feel small and worthless and I thought that without him, I would be lost. When we fought, he hit me. Many times. I can not remember a lot of the scenes (I guess I still surpress it), but I know I had to wear long sleeves or scarfs too many times. ‘Look at your butt. People laugh at you cause you have such a fat ass.’ I never forget that. I also never forget that he chased me along the empty beach in Thailand cause he was so mad. I ran for my life, I was sure he is going to kill me. I worked for Swissair at that time and I didn’t dare to admit, that I was relieved when I was up in the air and in whatever city I stayed. It was the time when there was no cell phone, no Skype, no Email, no Facebook. When I was off, I was off. I had to deal with bulimia all the time in this phase. I tried to talk to him about it, but he said he doesn’t want to hear that. I should just ‘get this shit under control’.
Don’t be too sorry. It was my choice to stay.
My friends were desperate. IF they got to see me, they saw a pale girl with blue spots, sad, scared, insecure with no single bit of self-worth or self-confidence left. They were worried to hell and I remember a letter I got from one of my Besties, begging me to come back to them, leaving him – finding back to myself. He called her and said to stop writing all this shit to me and to leave us alone.
He threw me out after 1 year, cause he said he can’t keep up control anymore and he doesn’t want to hurt me anymore. I went home to Mom and Dad, crying like a baby. They were the happiest people in the world.
I stayed with Swissair for one more year. It was a great resttime as a single, but it was also a trigger for the Eating Disorder. No structured meals, only plane junk food, no routine. I sometimes binged in the galley (kitchen on the plane) while my crew members served the cabin. Or I ordered 1/3 of the room service menu, trying to shy away from the irritated look of the room service boy. It was the time when I started to take laxatives and started to purge sporadically. No good memories.
At least I was back with my friends and I was beyond thankful they ‘took me back’ after I kind of left them for almost a year.
And YES, we dressed up as Aerobic Chics for a costume party. I LOVED it!!!🙂
About a year later, I met a new man. He was still married, but seperated and he had a little son. Let’s just say – it wasn’t a healthy relationship either. It lasted over 3 years and this guy also had phases of jealousy which were out of control. He was a bodybuilder, so you can imagine that I was scared to death when he freaked out and that it was dangerous when he hit me. Though this time I stood up for myself and hit back. Of course I didn’t have the slightest chance, but at least I earned his respect. I am not proud, but it was my will to survive which was acting. I have to say that despite all the things he did, he was and is a good guy, but he went through really rough times with his divorce and his little son. I know that NOTHING can legitimate violence and abuse, but at least he really reflected his behavior and changed for the better – just not in the time when I was with him.
There were good things about this relationship too. He helped me to find a way with workouts and food that made me get into balance. I lost quite some weight ( that was ok, I had enough ‘depot’) and learned how to eat regularly and workout without obsessing. He was my Personal Trainer. Which of course gave him the power over me he was looking for, but at least I got a break from bulimia and could stop those quick and unhealthy weight fluctuations. I was bingefree during the whole relationship. Looking back at the pics today, I find myself too skinny, but I know I did eat quite carefree and relaxed. Being skinny was a priority though. As always. We broke up several times, but we never made it too long without each other. It was this unhealthy addicted relationship – we were obsessed by each other and still couldn’t stay together. One day when he broke up again I didn’t fight anymore. I couldn’t. I was done.
It took me a long time to get over the end of this relationship and we never got to talk things out. Never. Even today he appears in my dreams, sometimes mad and dangerous, sometimes sweet and friendly. I don’t know how he is and I never got to know why we actually broke up in the end. And I probably will never know.
I stayed stable even after the relationship ended, but I wasn’t eating properly, I almost fell a little back into restrictive eating and was really skinny. But I was ok and I never went dangerously underweight anymore. Being skinny was a priority. As always.
Coming up: Part 3 of my story – Dad leaves us, a new healthy relationship and the big relapse