Here goes:

I want to start sharing my day to day musings on having an eating disorder, being a mother, and struggling with alcohol abuse, depression & anxiety. I know I'm not alone out there. This shit is real. And it's hard. And it sucks. I have a little boy who needs a happy mommy, and one of the best therapies is writing what you think and feel, right? This is not a blog that supports bad behaviors; I don't condone sharing tips on how to get away with any eating disorder issues. I want to bring the real view of what it's like to have an invisible force work its way into the everyday life of an average woman.

I'm 29. I am 5'4". It doesn't matter what I weigh, because the # never satisfies me. I've been as high as 175 lbs and as low as 92 lbs. Let's just say right now, I am at what my doctor defines as a "healthy" weight for my height and frame. That said, let's talk about how I maintain this "healthy" weight.

I am bulimic. I restrict every single calorie that goes in, if it's not going to come back up. I actually don't know how many calories this is per day, but it's not much. When I'm not restricting, I am going through a binge/purge cycle, where, in one sitting, I consume about 3-4 days worth of calories, and then force myself to vomit them all back up. Usually this takes about an hour, from the time I sit down and start eating, to the time I'm wiping down the toilet after purging. How disgusted are you?

I hate throwing up. When I was 19, I started actively restricting calories, and over exercising to compensate for what I WAS eating. 2 years later, I was eating practically nothing at all, passing out frequently, losing hair and my period...it was a scary kind of existence. All of a sudden, one day, I just couldn't handle it anymore. I was SO hungry, I couldn't stop eating. When I was finished, I felt incredibly worthless and disgusting (I had finished a "normal" sized plate of food-more than I had had all week) and I felt like I couldn't live with myself, envisioning the 50 lbs I would surely gain from keeping that one meal down. I went in the bathroom, stuck my fingers down my throat...and found a new way to manage my life, which would take me through the next 8 years.

Today, I have a 2 year old son. He was conceived after a stint at an eating disorder inpatient facility, where miraculously, my body healed enough to get my menstrual cycle and be healthy enough to carry a baby to term. He is my miracle baby. I would give anything to drop all this crazy eating disorder shit and be a normal, happy, healthy mom for him. I do the best I can. I try not to let him see any of this scary stuff. I stuff the feelings of depression and anxiety down, because I know what a destructive force they can be, and I want  him to grow up untouched by that kind of horror.

I don't know where to go, or what to do, to make the changes that I need to make to get through this. But I can say this: I am a fighter. I am a survivor. I will do it. And I will chronicle my journey here, as proof that you can always conquer your inner demons.

Until next time friends. Wish me luck with today. I hope if any of you are similarly struggling, you can feel comforted by knowing that you're not alone. That's probably the best thing I can say to you. I am here, too. I am an average woman, a mother, my life is not perfect, sometimes I hate myself. But I am just like you, and together we are going to be warriors, and fight for the life we are meant to have. <3