When I was in seventh grade, I went to this "health class" which was required for our school. We watched this "lifetime" made-fo- tv movie about a bulimic girl who ends up in the hospital. You know, the logic in me knows what I'm doing is wrong, but I find myself bowing to the toilet anyway. That's the half that knows I'm not overweight for my age or height. But then there's just the rest of me that tells me I am. I justify my feeling huge by the fact that "weight means nothing." I guess I figure my body looks overweight though it's not. I don't think my doctor has caught on since most of my visits have been quickies... medi-quickies...
I'm sure with some serious meditation, I could hit the nerve that makes me understand why I feel the urge to purge.

Thanks for the warm welcome, guys. It's good to know that other people are there. I never told my family about it. And "HI!" lighthope. Welcome, sistah! hehehe.

I was raised in a family that made me believe sharing my problems with people who know me, or know enough things about me, was bad and disgraceful. That's why talking to you all feels okay to me. But, at the same time, it's made me scared of therapy. thanks though, for being there. When my family can't be there for me, it is something kind of special to know a random stranger will be.