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That One Girl
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jul 2010
Location: Southern California
Posts: 3
S/C/G: 131/128.6/105
Height: 5'2"
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Incognito
My first instinct when I say "incognito" is to emphasize the "neat-o!" part.
In a way, this is an introduction, and in a way, it isn't. The truth is that I've been here before. I was a fairly active member for some time, and when I wasn't posting, I was definitely scoping the forums and scouring over inspirational before/after photos wondering how long it would take before my flab-ridden thighs would fit into the same size pants that some of these women were wearing (though, admittedly, I may not have chosen the circa 1980's high-waisted trainwrecks that some of the subjects were sporting. Come on, girls, you know who you are!). But the point is that I absolutely loved this site, and it helped me get from 168 pounds down to 113. I'm 5'2".
If there's one thing that I've learned in life, it's that good things don't last forever. It's hard for me not to be overwhelmed at the thought of how much has changed since I first registered on this site with so many hopes for the future. I let that overwhelming feeling get the best of me more often than I should, and I'm definitely paying the consequences.
My goal here is to be completely, uncomfortably, and possibly even inappropriately honest. I apologize ahead of time if anyone thinks I'm pulling a "TMI" or need to be more frugal in sharing the sensitive details of my life. But I would bet (or maybe I just hope) that I'm not the only one going through issues such as these. Of course I wouldn't wish them upon anyone else, but it's good not to feel so isolated or alone in the delicate construct of my experiences.
Since losing the weight, I've lost my boyfriend of 2 years. It was an international relationship, so it was definitely more complicated than anything one would pick for themselves. I had been rearranging my thought process to accept the fact that I would be moving overseas and completely uprooting my life to fit into his. It didn't work out, and I was suddenly left with a gap in my heart the size of an island.
After the breakup, I was extremely vulnerable. I quickly found myself in a situation in which I was manipulated to trust a person that I never should have allowed into my life. They saw my weakness from a mile off and went in for the kill. (This would be a good time to mention the fact that I considered myself bisexual at the time, but now consider myself only gay.) I gave my heart to her, as she supported me through the breakup and different issues concerning my family. I became completely dependant on her.
Time went on, and our friendship deepened. She was my world, offering me the attention that no one else ever had. She made me feel important and worth it. And, despite being married, she began flirting with me. I saw the flirtation as playfulness and refused myself to read into it, though I admit I enjoyed the attention. But then she approached me with "the deal".
She mentioned that she liked me a lot and cared for me deeply, wanting to be in a relationship with me. But her husband, who was okay with her having a girlfriend, was jealous at the thought of intimacy with anyone other than himself. So "the deal" was that we could be together...if I slept with her husband. No intimacy between us could exclude him. He wanted to be a part of everything, and would want his 'turns' with me. Her idea was to turn this into a polyamorous relationship, a sort of three-way in which all of us were involved with one another. She also stated that whatever my decision was, our friendship would remain. We would still be best friends, but the flirtation would stop if I said "No". I was honestly completely okay with the thought of no flirtation, as long as we could stay as close as we were at the time.
A couple of weeks went by and I thought about "the deal". I hate myself for not immediately throwing it (and even her) out of my life forever, but the truth was that she was my world. We had sessions in which we'd meet for coffee and I'd ask her questions about "the deal" and she'd respond encouragingly.
I came to my decision: No. I wouldn't do it. But after telling her my decision, things changed drastically between us. She would hardly talk to me. She seemed depressed, disappointed, and hurt. I felt so guilty for breaking her heart, and felt as if I'd made a huge mistake. I suddenly began feeling the same gap in my heart that I'd felt after breaking up with my previous boyfriend. I had no foundation, nothing to cling to. So what did I do?
I changed my mind.
For months I was involved with this woman and her husband. I hated him, never liked him from the start. He had always made me extremely uncomfortable, even before this situation with his wife. And now I was obligated to sleep with him and satisfy him. I completely gave up all self-worth, deciding that this was better than being alone. If I could have her, even if just a portion of her heart, it was worth it to me. But my life turned into a very dark, destructive place.
Sex was physically painful. I was a virgin at the start of this, but as time went on it was obvious that it wasn't a virgin's pain, it was something else. In order for me to be "functional" I'd have to get drunk off of wine, vodka, whiskey, or whatever was available. I'd take four to six Motrin. Then he'd put numbing gel on me so that he could do what he wanted without me screaming in pain.
I withdrew from friends and family, became severely depressed. I began cutting. I also began what has turned into the demon of my life - binging and purging. I would eat and eat and eat, then vomit it all up. My weight began slowly increasing, which only perpetuated the cycle as my depression/anxiety as I saw myself undoing all the hard work from before. I was no longer a success, I was a piece of garbage. As our relationship continued, I can only imagine that I was no longer as exciting as before. She would offer little to no support, despite knowing about the eating disorder. She began verbally manipulating me and even ignoring me. I began feeling like her pet...something she would invite around for periods of time, then shoo away whenever I became inconvenient. She once even compared me to a "stray cat" - something she loved to have around, but wasn't hers to keep.
Despite using birth control (and condoms,altough he had a bad habit of letting them 'slip off'), her husband got me pregnant. I was scared out fo my mind. I found out while alone in a Wal-Mart bathroom stall cradling a pregnancy test in my hand that I'd bought after not getting my period on time. It was positive.
Long story short, I had a medical abortion. It was absolutely the right decision. There was no way I would bring a baby into the world with ties to this evil man and manipulative woman, a bulimic/unstable mother, and a history of parents with no love for one another. I went to planned parenthood alone for all of my appointments because neither of them would go with me. She ended up breaking things off a week after the abortion.
So there I was...bulimic, a cutter, post-abortion, and suffering from what would later be diagnosed as post traumatic stress disorder. I was literally completely alone. Food, however, was always there.
I'm still trying to put the pieces together of what really happened. I can't believe how easy I was to manipulate, and how weak minded I truely was. I can't believe it took a pregnancy to get me out of it. I'm also still angry at myself that she was the one that cut it off, not me.
So here I am, healing, and wondering how just how much it'll take to get me on the right track again. I consider myself a "recovering" bulimic, as I've taken some dramatic steps since the beginning of this ordeal. I still fail far more than I'd like to admit.
I need help. I need support. I don't know where to go with this, what to do. I suppose part of my honesty is a cry for help. Although I've recently acquired an extremely amazing friend that is supporting me emotionally, I still feel a bit aimless in the recovery process. Sometimes I look at people like Jillian Michaels on TV and wish I could convince them to come chain me to a treadmill and chain a lock across my pantry. I've successfully lost the weight before, but the newfound emotions are really dragging me through the mud. I feel like force is my last option.
Well, I've already written far too much. I hope this gives you an accurate representation of what I'm currently wading through, and I hope in some way you find courage in knowing that whatever you're going through, you're not alone. We all of our secrets, our demons. I also encourage you to write to me if you feel that you too need a support system. Maybe somehow we can help eachother through.
Until the next post,
~Regrette Rien~
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Dhani 
