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The Allure of Bulimia

I already know that the title of this post is going to piss some people off, but I really don't have any other way to phrase it than how I did. Stick with me and you'll see what I mean.

First off...I understand that eating disorders are serious. I am in no way attempting to be-little them or make light of the seriousness. People who have them and are subject to their hold should seek help. It's not a good situation.

All I mean by the title is...now I understand how someone could become bulimic. And I found out quite by accident. Well...ok...that's not entirely accurate.

You see, this past Wednesday was Halloween. And in true Blue Hen fashion, we did it up right. Nevermind the rain..we had our fire pit...we had the frozen chocolate pudding shots (SO yummy). And we sat and handed out candy for 2 hours to the 14 kids that braved the elements.

And had about 6 of the frozen chocolate pudding shots.

Which, on a normal night, would have been enough. But I wasn't working on Thursday. So this was clearly NOT a normal night.

It was Scarey-oake at BrewStirs. So, in costume I went. And sang. And drank some more.

I knew I wasn't working the next day and that an alarm clock had no meaning. So I cut loose in such a fashion that I haven't cut loose in for quite some time.

I couldn't tell you what I all I had that night, on top of very little actual food in my stomach. But I can tell you that at the end of the night, Mr. Jager and his bully friend Red showed up to close down the evening (morning).

And stumbling home I went (Must've been around 230AM or so by now).

The rest of the events are a blur.

I remember winding up in my driveway. And at that point revisiting everything I'd consumed that night in a somewhat violent fashion.

I went in to the house (I assume. I don't remember this, but I woke up in my house, so I must have walked in there at some point). And I remember going to bed as the wife was leaving for work.

And I was out until about 1230.  At which time I woke up. The rest of the details aren't as important because they don't really pertain to the title.  So...there's the set up....hadn't eaten much....got shitfaced...puked the entire contents of my stomach out.

The human stomach holds, at any given time, about 5 lbs.

I've been weighing in fairly consistently recently at about 263. I know that a lot of this plateau is the fact that fat is converting to muscle (and I'm trying not to get discouraged by it...but it ain't easy).

On a whim Thursday, I stepped on the scale.

And it said 258.

And I was euphoric.

Read that again, folks....EUPHORIC.

I felt a rush like I'd never felt.  And then it hit me. I only 'lost' that much because I puked. I puked a lot. And I realized how that rush that I felt, coupled with struggling with weight loss, coupled with the stresses that many people normally feel in life could lead to becoming bulimic.

It was quite a wake-up call on several fronts, actually.

It was a cautionary tell to never again let Meister Jager in to the party in my stomach.

But it was also insight. For most of my life, when I heard someone had been struggling with bulimia my first thought was 'ugh...how could you make yourself puke on purpose??'  Thursday...standing on that scale...experiencing that brief high...I got my answer.

So to anyone in my life that might have faced bulimia, I'm sorry. I won't say that I 'get it'...but I feel that I'm a step or too closer to understanding. And I have to say...it's some scary shit. If I had not instantly recognized that the weight loss was from the vomiting and that it was not a good thing, I could see how it could become addicting.

The scale is back where it should be now. Actually a bit higher thanks to all the left over Halloween Candy (Tootsie Roll Fruit Rolls are the devil). But I'm working on getting it back down...the healthy way.

Happy Monday, y'all.

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