I Was A Binge Eater Turned Bulimic
A year ago when the world went into strict lockdown, I wrote about how self-isolation triggered my binge eating disorder. A year later, I’m sitting across a pile of empty biscuits and chips packets writing about my struggle with bulimia.
2020–2021 hasn’t been easy for anyone. Even if you think self-isolation is a perfect gift for an introvert/indoor person like yourself, your body will still struggle. It’ll feel pain, either physically or mentally, and eventually shut up and make you feel like there’s an empty hole in you.
I started binge eating in the final year of my university, thanks to dissertation and the stress of securing a job as an international student. When I moved back to my home country, I spent the first 3 months sleeping with chocolate wrappers hidden under my pillow. No one knew I was binge eating. I lived with my parents and none of them figured it out. My symptoms stopped gradually when I landed my dream job as a magazine journalist. Working 24/7 distracted me from the food cravings, which was a good thing, until I started becoming a food journalist.
I was constantly visiting new restaurants and feasting on free hotel buffets for my job, which only fuelled to an even bigger and more expensive food cravings. Crisps and chocolate? Nah, I wanted unlimited sashimis and croissants. It was bad. It was horrible.
Fast forward to 2020 when the pandemic hit. I started the new decade on the worst note possible. It was by far the lowest point of my life. A breakup at the end of December 2019 broke me so badly that my mental health was at 0%, or perhaps -10%. I couldn’t get out of bed; I couldn’t eat; I couldn’t do anything, really. Some days, I didn’t wash up. I drove to work hoping I’d crash my car and die. I’d sit in my car for an hour after work to cry because I couldn’t bring myself to drive home. I changed my name because I was traumatised by it. I barely ate anything for the first three months and saw my weight dropped at least 7kgs.
When the lockdown started in mid-March 2020, I felt as thought my whole life has crumbled. My mental health was not improving. My company was at the brink of bankruptcy. My savings were running low due to medical expenses (something happened after the breakup which affected my health). I turned to food for comfort but all I got was guilt and a bunch of horrible symptoms like diarrhoea, nausea and bloating. Again, my parents weren’t aware of my disorder. My symptoms stopped again gradually due to the lockdown curfew and stay-at-home order which made compulsive grocery shopping a no-go.
It’s April 2021. What I thought was a significant healing results turned out to be an improved bury-all-the-feelings skill. After losing my dream job in April 2020 due to the company going bankrupt, I upgraded to working as a social media analyst. Or so, I thought was an upgrade. What looked like God’s blessing to climb up the career ladder just made my mental health even worse.
I was heavily traumatised by social media and took a break from it after the breakup. But when unemployment hit, I realised that the journalism industry was at the brink of collapse. I saw no future in it and with a bunch of opportunities in social media knocking on my door, I decided to take the leap of faith and switched industry.
It started off as a very daunting yet exciting opportunity. The job was challenging and data-driven, and my bosses were very encouraging and supportive too. However, what I didn’t foresee is being a customer service agent disguised under the fancy “social media specialist” title. Day and night, my phone buzzes with notifications from social pages. When issues occur, the pages get flooded with complaints from entitled customers thinking you’re the CEO of the company who has Godly powers to create miracles.
Since young, my mom taught me to always be kind to others and put myself in other’s shoes before reacting negatively. My first job at 16 was as a sales assistant in a cookie shop and that has taught me how NOT to treat people. It showed me how disgusting and rude people can be and how NOT to be like them. It taught me that most of the time, the people who are assisting you with your issues have limitations in the assistance they can provide and it’s not their fault. Working in retail at a young age taught me so many life skills I couldn’t have learnt in school or from friends.
I’d go through the vicious cycle of eat, throw up and workout at least once a week.
When I started working in social media, I was so excited to learn about datas and using advanced digital tools. Then, the first crisis happened which resulted in a large influx of complaints. I’ve always been a customer-service type of person as being helpful is second nature to me. However, as time goes by, it became a huge stressor in my life. I’d wake up and lay in bed for 10 mins to mentally prepare myself before opening the social pages to respond to absolutely nasty messages. Sometimes, you get sandwiched between a customer who’s extremely difficult and a company that lacks the empathy and resources to resolve the issue accordingly.
The stress from work coupled with family issues and the never-healing breakup traumas led to my GP referring me to a psychiatrist. I was later pre-diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, PTSD and severe depression. After much consideration, I decided to attend therapy which cost a whopping 1/3 of my monthly salary. Guess what that resulted in?
An additional money anxiety.
My bulimia symptoms started with eating clean and healthy. I was hitting the gym almost every day when restrictions were eased. I was eating healthy all day and my grocery basket was literally filled with whole foods like berries, salmons and fresh veges. Then, I treated myself to a few pieces of oreos. A few turned into the whole packet and later multiplied to crisps, chocolates, or sometimes even 2 portions of my healthy meal prep.
There was something about stuffing myself with food that made me feel better but also guilty. The urge to eat was like a root inside of me. I couldn’t shake it off no matter how hard my senses tried to convince me. I could force myself to go to bed, only to wake up with robotic-like feelings and head to the kitchen for a quick binge.
The constant binging soon developed obvious side effects like bloating and nausea. I had serious bloating issues that would keep me awake the whole night and cause major indigestion. I knew things were really bad when I started having difficult breathing because I was simply too stuffed.
That’s how I started inducing vomiting to relief the bloating and make myself feel “lighter”. I’d binge eating unimaginable amount of food and head to the toilet immediately to throw everything up. I’m not proud of it. I’d go through the vicious cycle of eat, throw up and workout at least once a week.
The worst part? I raised this issue to my therapist but got absolutely no support or advice on how to navigate through this hellhole. Despite being fully aware of how dangerous bulimia can be, I find it extremely difficult to control my eating habit. It’s like a crazy withdrawal feeling of being weak and shivering if I don’t get any food, pronto.
Being bulimic certainly extends beyond the binge eating and throwing up habit. It’s crippling my mental health. There were days when I’d feel fuzzy all day, unable to focus on anything. I’d feel restless, like I have 0% energy to do anything. I’d procrastinate, whether it’s work or self care or healing. It triggers my traumas from the breakup which I’m still not over with. Some days, I’d feel okay with lots of control of my eating habit. Some days, I’d feel absolutely scared of the world and hide in a corner. Small things irritate me down to my bones.
I have no idea what to do with myself.
The feeling of losing yourself is terrifying. You’re usually the person who knows yourself best. But when you look in the mirror and can’t recognise the person you’re looking at, what do you do?
Do you clear your bank account and live with money anxiety to seek professional help? (Honestly, let’s not act like professional help is accessible to everyone. It’s not. Period.) How long can I survive on therapy only, with no money for food, rent and other basic necessities?
Reading about other people’s recovery story encourages me and gives me hope. However, dealing with the issue on my own makes the recovery path an extremely long one. Most of the time, it feels like one step forward two steps back.
If you’re dealing with an eating disorder, don’t lose hope. I know I haven’t, and I’m speaking from my current experience, not past. It took me a long time to admit I’m bulimic but I feel that that’s really the first step to breaking the cycle. Seek help if possible, or take the initiative to educate yourself with the resources available to help you recover.
