creatures of habit.
I had not purged in about two weeks. Then today I ate some because I saved all my calories for a reception I had to go to tonight. I did not feel the anxious or the irrational and crazed desire to purge. I actually wanted to purge. It was a calm and very rational feeling like putting on lipstick or painting the nails.
Almost like I missed doing it.
Anyway, I calmly slipped away to the bathroom and purged.
Everything.
It was painful. I painfully teared my way through it.
Afterwards I felt so happy… Almost…..
complete…?
This has happened to me before. It was (and still is) the strangest experience I’ve ever had.
Just recently I made a sort of “contract” with my therapist, stating that I would eat however little it took to keep me from purging. She claimed that she didn’t care if I ate 150 calories a day, as long as I kept it in me.
So I did this for the past three days.
These have been without a doubt the most miserable three days I’ve had in a long, long while.
What is it about that vile, repulsive act that centers us so much?
