From 14 years old to 31 years old, I threw up my life and all my emotions, up to fifteen times a day during the binge eating, punctuated by periods of anorexia, which lasted from a few days to three weeks. As soon as food entered my stomach, I would make myself throw up, sometimes several times during a seizure, so that I could swallow everything I had bought. The infernal circle closed on me the day I “managed” to throw up, because now I could eat whatever I wanted and have the body I dreamed of.
Vomiting freed me from everything
All I had to do was bend over for the food to go back in the opposite direction. Before achieving this, I had gained up to 14 kg. By vomiting, I finally had absolute control over my body, my life, my emotions. “Happiness” … By the time I realized that I had it all wrong, it was too late.
During a crisis, I gorged myself on enormous quantities: whole package of pasta, bag of cheese, plate of butter, brioche, Nutella jar, pizza, pastries, industrial sandwiches, pastries, cold meats, yogurts, ice cream, etc. Afterwards, my jaw ached from chewing so much, my face was swollen, I could barely open my mouth. Sometimes my tongue burned. Vomiting set me free.
I expelled everything that took up too much space in me: anxieties, sorrow, fatigue, shame, need for love, hypersensitivity, but also the absence of my brother, who I missed, and even joy, when it was too much. strong. These “emotional drains” soothed me, so much so that some days I just did that. Then I suddenly rocked in anorexia, without ever having wanted to lose weight to the extreme. I never went below the 50 kg bar for 1.58 m.
Expert in the art of pretending
Vegetables, soups, plain yoghurts made up my meals and I exercised excessively. I was becoming absent to myself, like anesthetized. Confidence returned, I felt invincible. My pain turned to anger, my weakness to strength. I liked this state.
Dangerously. I felt myself taking possession of the world, feeding on euphoria and shopping where, again, I bought too much. If I hadn’t talked about it, no one would ever have known. I have always been jovial, an expert in the art of pretending, and I was neither skinny nor fat.
However, I accumulated discomfort, voltage drops, deficiencies, especially in potassium, to the point where a doctor once told me that I was at risk of cardiac arrest. Why did I get sick? The causes are multiple: a quest for excellence since always, a toxic friendship with a college student who certainly had eating disorders, a close relationship with my mother, fragile and depressed, a complicated bond with my father. My therapy allowed me to understand, before accepting it, that I was not responsible for my mother, that it was not up to me to make her happy or protect her and that I had to learn to exist without she.
It was by meeting love that I walked towards healing. Love also nourishes, otherwise. I discovered seduction, desire and carnal sensuality, hitherto absent from my life. But the danger remained, since it was through the control of my body that I had had access to men’s gaze and that I felt desirable. To stop vomiting was to risk getting fat and no longer pleasing. Also, even when I started to get better and no longer had seizures, I continued to make myself vomit to control my weight after a meal that I felt was too fatty or too filling. To get out of it, you have to be kind to yourself, learn not to judge yourself and accept to welcome all the emotions you feel, without trying to fight them.
Healing takes time
I had to relearn how to digest because my stomach could only be empty. It was a painful fight, both physical and mental. I must have kept the emotions I had previously vomited within me. My attending physician was invaluable and I saw shrinks. But I would like to testify that there is life after these troubles. I have been around the world with the one who has been my companion for four years, I live a loving relationship, without manipulation or dependence. With my parents, the bond is still strong, but it is healthy. For a year, I no longer think about what I eat, nor to vomit. I feed myself by listening to my needs and desires. I am fulfilled and happy.
• Hungry for life, Mélina Hoffmann, ed. Michalon
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