From 14 to 31, I threw up my life and all my emotions, up to fifteen times a day during binge eating, punctuated by periods of anorexia, which lasted from a few days to three weeks. As soon as a food reached my stomach, I made myself vomit, sometimes several times during a crisis, in order to be able to swallow all that I had bought. The infernal circle closed on me the day I “succeeded” in throwing up, because I could now eat everything I wanted and have the body I dreamed of.
Throwing up freed me from everything
It was enough to bend over for the food to go back in the opposite direction. Before achieving this, I had taken up to 14 kg. By vomiting, I finally had absolute control over my body, my life, my emotions. Happiness… By the time I realized I had it all wrong, it was too late.
During a crisis, I gorged myself on huge quantities: a whole packet of pasta, a bag of cheese, a slab of butter, a brioche, Nutella jar, pizza, pastries, industrial sandwiches, pastries, charcuterie, yogurts, ice cream, etc. Afterwards, my jaw was sore from chewing so much, my face was swollen, I could barely open my mouth. Sometimes my tongue would burn. Vomit freed me.
I expelled everything that took up too much space in me: anxieties, grief, fatigue, shame, need for love, hypersensitivity, but also the absence of my brother, who I missed, and even joy, when it was too strong. These “emotional drains” soothed me, so much so that some days, I just did that. Then I suddenly tipped over in anorexia, without ever having wanted to lose weight to the extreme. I never went below 50 kg for 1.58 m.
Expert in the art of pretending
Vegetables, soups, plain yogurts made up my meals and I exercised excessively. I became absent from myself, as if anesthetized. My self-confidence was coming back, I felt invincible. My suffering turned into anger, my weakness into strength. I liked this state.
Dangerously. I felt like I was taking over the world, feeding on euphoria and shopping where, again, I was buying too much. If I hadn’t talked about it, no one would have ever 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 that a doctor once told me that I was at risk of cardiac arrest. Why did I get sick? The causes are multiple: a lifelong quest for excellence, a toxic friendship with a schoolgirl who certainly had eating disorders, a close relationship with my fragile and depressed mother, 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 to protect her and that I had to learn to exist without she.
It was by encountering love that I journeyed 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 the gaze of men 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 was no longer having seizures, I continued to induce vomiting to control my weight after a meal that I felt was too fatty or too large. 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 only knew how to be empty. It was a painful struggle, both physical and mental. I had to keep in me the emotions previously vomited. My attending physician was invaluable and I saw shrinks. But I would like to testify that there is life after these troubles. I have traveled around the world with the man who has been my companion for four years, I live in a relationship of love, 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, or vomit. I nurture myself by listening to my needs and desires. I am fulfilled and happy.
• hunger for life, Melina Hoffmann, ed. michalon
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