Bulimia… There was a time when I had no slightest idea of WHAT it is. There was a period after that when I couldn't think that it is both my way of life and my problem. Yet what I was even more incapable of understanding is how big is the number of girls and women of different age, income and education all over the world who suffer from the very same thing as me. It has no mercy for anyone.
Bulimia is a disorder of eating behaviour. It is the beginning of almost all definitions for this phenomenon in scientific and medical literature that I have come across. Yet none of them was sufficiently clear for me to form a complete picture of what it is going on with me, and what's more important — how do I get rid of it, or can I?
How did it all begin?

Let me start from the very beginning. I am 17. I am an attractive girl, first-year student of a prestigious university department, a whole lot of friends, a happy and absolutely carefree student's life, the gym, discos and an apartment of my own without parents. It is all cool. All of a sudden I came to realize I was pregnant. I was firm and unhesitating in my decision — it was on the next day that I had an abortion. I did not tell a single word to my parents, my baby's father, who was of the same age as me, had nothing against it either. Apparently that was the end of my normal life. Though at that time I had no concerns about it — it just happened and that was it.

I have to add I had always been slim since my childhood, even too slim. And suddenly in my second year of studies I began putting on weight. And the habit of not stinting myself in food remained. That was not even a habit of mine; I had merely not given it any thought. My way of life also contributed to it. It was almost daily that I used to come home in the middle of the night and gobble down (usually accompanied by someone) all the food stuff that was in the fridge or periodically smoke pot (you can understand it if you know what I am talking about) after which you could eat a horse at any time of the day.

Long story short, it was during a year that my body weight increased from 49 to 63 kg. If you are 170 cm tall that is not that bad, and the thing is that it was all proportionate. But! Generally speaking, surrounded by friends who were always losing weight, I also became a part of it. It all started with diets and starvation periods followed by engorgement fits, and what's more, there was always someone living in my place — someone from the friends of mine, obsessed with their weight, and that is why our joint slimming almost always ended in joint sprees. And don't let us forget all kinds of birthdays, picnics, parties that inevitably accompany one in their happy student's life. There was no way of combining the two, I lost weight, then I put it on, I flew off the handle, starved for a week then came to visit my parents and had a whole lot to eat for some unknown reason, went on a diet again etc.  There was practically no effect at all. No, that is wrong, there was an effect, an adverse one.

Thoughts of my weight, figure and beauty kept haunting me. And what's more, I never refused eating something yummy.

My love life was neither stable nor constant. It was all about looking for a vague ideal guy that turned out to be a mere waste of time. My parents also turned out to have a whole bunch of problems that, when I grew up, came out, or probably they just ceased to hide them from me. It was not more than once in 3–4 weeks that I came to visit them, and the only reason for that was that I HAD TO.

I had scarcely appeared in the doorway when I was barraged with all the whining. My mom would always complain about my dad's affairs, and shouted threats to leave him (and so she did one day. However she got back after 3 weeks). Dad was doing his best to prove he loves me — and he really loves me. More than any other person — I can feel it. I know it and I do not need anyone to say something or persuade me. Generally speaking the picture of a «happy family» somehow dashed to pieces.

I was childishly upset about their quarrels, mom's tears, and scandals that I was also to blame for according to my mom, for I tried somehow to justify for my dad's behaviour. I was blamed for «not giving a damn, the only thing you care for is money..», at other times accusations were quite the opposite like «of course your dad has always been good, you'd better keep silent».  Frankly speaking as I came back to my place I escaped these problems, stopped thinking about them. Don't get me wrong, I have amazing parents, but having stuck in their own problems they took no notice of mine.  Mom would not listen to or see my attempts to address her when I needed her badly. I in no way want to blame her, especially now, but there was a moment when I felt such a chasm, solitude and bunch of emotions and there was no way of escaping them.

And the way out turned up itself. One day my friends and I were staying at my place and rumouring as we often did. A friend of mine had just gotten back from St. Petersburg where she had gone to with her fellow students. She told about our common acquaintance who, like everybody else, was outrageous in her attempts to lose weight. The gist of the story was that the girl would eat like everybody else or even more and then went to the bathroom and threw up. She lost 8 kg in half a year! At that time I could not even think that I was also capable of such a thing.

After some time I grew sick of seeing that «fat and ugly» reflection of myself in the mirror and I tried it once, then again and again. It started happening regularly: I was losing weight! I was eating and losing weight! Now I could eat anything — cakes, sausages, sandwiches, fried potatoes. First I did so only when I had eaten too much food i.e. at a party or something like this. Then gorging myself and throwing up in the bathroom grew into a habit. It was not just a habit, it became the breath of my life, and it was food that I was thinking about from morning till night.

Gradually my relations with my friends wound up, I started quarrelling with my parents, who did not understand me and suspected me of being on the needle — that was possibly because my looks left much to be desired… I was just fading away. My weight decreased from 63 to 50 kg in a year, then it was less than that — it was 45. And I was keeping on and on.  It was not about losing weight. I just had forgotten how to live a different life, got out of the habit of whooping things up, etc. After every meal I went to the bathroom. Practically no food in the daytime, but when I came home in evening I wolfed down EVERYTHING. And the worst thing about it was that I liked it at first. After a while I started sleeping badly, fancying some spooky stuff all around me. I was living on my own and it aggravated the whole situation. The only amusement I had was driving — just purposeless driving around the town.

Start the fight?
It was then that I met Max. I was going somewhere late at night and just by accident met him. After a month we started living together, but I had 2 persons living in myself — me, who was loved, needed by someone, loving, caring for our home and the person I loved, and me, who rushed to the shop after work, hardly finding time and coming up with different excuses all the time, buying all the stuff that was within reach, and then gorging and leaning over the lavatory pan.

It all was extremely hard for me, physically I was running out to time, and morally… At the bottom of my heart I was feeling disgust at having to deceive the person I loved, disgust at the fact that HE, who loves me so much, and whom I love so much, does not deserve it!  After a while we decided to have a baby. Frankly speaking, I felt even worse. You cannot possibly expect to get pregnant when you weigh 45 kg, when your normal weight is at least 53–54. I understood if I had not changed my way of life, my character and called it a day I could destroy everything.
And I began beating the bushes for information on treatment, causes, consequences etc. At the same time I was trying to start my new life from scratch. Bit by bit — dietary habits, leisure time, friends. I tried fancying myself in the place of people who do not have such a problem. Each time I was about relapse or was a long time and had some compulsive thoughts of food, I thought of Max, my parents and my future baby as the most significant things. Somehow it worked.  I understood that once you set yourself a goal, not a global, but achievable one there will always be a way to achieve it. Of course it's not all as smooth as intended. I had relapses, and constant self-scrutiny, «failure» thoughts and even more conspicuous disappointment. And then I pulled myself together and started all over again.

About a year ago I came to know a person who helped me a lot. I have never met her, but our online communication has become vital to me. Irina Kulchinskaya helped me with the answers to a whole lot of questions that had remained unanswered for a long time. After some time she helped me to build a certain system, and what is more important I grew relatively calm inside, I stopped running to extremes and did not perceive my relapses tragically any more, which by the by grew a lot less frequent. Yet another thing I became aware of was that you can't solve the problem at a time, you need work hard and long on yourself, your thoughts and wishes. But isn‘t it a trifle as compared to life without addiction at peace with yourself?