To read this blog in order start at July right at the top of the blog archive and progress down in order. This is an account of my battle with anorexia and bulimia

Sunday 28 August 2011 year, new house, new relationships, new car

The year started with me in Tamworth, eating, eating and eating. I almost couldn’t stop. I had put on weight, but didn’t really think about it. I don’t know what it was but I just felt different. I didn’t care about weight.
I went back to the mountains, and kept eating. It was almost like I didn’t have a problem (except for downing 5-7 laxatives each night, and sometimes during the day). I was focussed on friends, like Amy and Melinda. We were in the process of finding a new house for the three of us to move into, and eventually we found it.
Naturally we had a house warming party. Actually we had numerous parties at the house, we were known as the party house. Over the last year, Melinda and I made quite a few friends at our church, which just so happened to be down the road from us now. So most Sundays after church people would pop in for a chat. Back to the house warming party though. It was one of the most fun party’s I had been to. We had water fights, grape fights, played games etc. To cut a long story short, this party was when Tom and I got together. (Tom is Amy’s brother). We had met previously, but I never considered him as anything such as relationship material. But for some reason, that night I was drawn to him. My lifestyle changed drastically from there. I was out every single night at his house (he lived around the corner), and usually left there at 3 or 4 in the morning.
I was happy, but I wasn’t happy. It’s hard to explain. It’s actually hard to write about this relationship because it makes me feel sick. He was basically besotted with me and I just couldn’t get that. Every day he had to tell me at least 10 times a day that I was beautiful, that I had a beautiful body. Each time I told him not to say it (because I didn’t believe it, and because it got annoying), he said it more. It got to the point where we’d fight about it, and I’d leave his house. I ended up telling him about the disorder. I think he tried to understand, but I knew he couldn’t. One night I was showing him a video of my family, and there were a few parts in there of when I was at my skinniest. He made the comment that I looked ‘repulsive”. I mulled on this word for a little while, then told him to get the fuck out of my house. He thought I was joking until I said it again. I couldn’t believe what he said. It was like he thought he was trying to help by telling me that I wasn’t attractive then but was now. What I heard was “you were skinny then and are fat now”. What I hated the most was the acknowledgment of having put on weight, and the continuing of putting on weight. I got to about 53kgs. At the time I thought I’d just have to deal with it and get over it finally. I came to the conclusion that the battle was finally over. I wasn’t even taking laxatives anymore.
I still wasn’t happy. There was something wrong and I couldn’t pin point it. The weird thing was that I was disliking spending time with Tom. The more I knew of him the more I disliked him. I not only felt trapped in my fat body, but also in this relationship. The only thing was that I just assumed the relationship would get better. I spent less and less time with him, and more and more time with Donna.
It wasn’t until our house had a green party for St Patrick’s day that I realised I didn’t like him. I was actually ashamed to even introduce him to my friend’s who hadn’t yet met him. That night also showed his possessiveness over me. He was actually jealous when I talked to others because he wanted me only to talk to him. He became extremely cranky throughout the night, then mellowed out to a quiet depressed like person. But I didn’t care. I felt as though I should have, and that I should have been nicer, but I was having too much fun without him near me. I was glad when he went home that night.
The day after the party was the 4th anniversary of mum’s death. Donna, having known this, stayed the night at my house so she could be there for me when I needed her. Tom had no idea, and I didn’t want him to either. Mim and I talked that morning, and she knew something was wrong. She said she could tell I was unhappy for so long, and had a feeling it was Tom. I just cried and cried on the phone to her. I didn’t know what to do. I hated my life and hated who I had become. I was a fake person pretending to be happy with a boyfriend who I didn’t like, and pretending to like the fact that I had put on weight. I got off the phone, and luckily Donna was there, because I would have hated to be alone at that moment. I decided then that breaking up with Tom was the only option. After making that decision I suddenly felt as though bricks had been taken off my shoulders, the next step was to tell him. Amy knew there was something up, and eventually got it out of me. I was so worried she would put this against me, and write off our friendship because I hurt her brother. The exact opposite happened. Instead she was supportive of whatever decision I came to and stood by me. I talked with Melinda about it too, and her first reaction was that I was just being selfish (she wasn’t trying to be mean about it, she was more concerned). She knew how much I was struggling with my weight at this point, (I was up to 52kgs), and she was concerned that I only wanted to break up with him so that I could revert back to my old eating habits.

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