"After telling the hard facts to anyone I have changed in their eyes. often it is awe or admiration, sometimes it is repulsion, once or twice it has been fury hurled directly at me for reasons I remain unsure of. Some men and lesbians see it as a turn-on or a mission, as if by sexualizing our relationship they can pull me back from the wreckage of that night. No one can pull you back from anywhere. You save yourself or you remain unsaved."

So this is the closest I've got to puking up my whole dinner in a long time. I haven't had the desire to do so for at least a year. It takes me back to a time when I didn't think anything was wrong with it. I de-stressed by puking. At that time, feeling fat stressed me out, among other things. So it started for one reason and continued for another. After I got over the fear of being fat puking morphed into an emotional outlet. When I encountered a situation I didn't know how to respond to, as I very often did in college, I puked until I felt that twisting pain in my stomach and saw blood drip into the toilet. I knew this was more horrifying than the potential outcome of the situation I was about to face, enabling me to take it on. I vacilated between that and not eating at all. The lack of desire to eat and the lack of energy to get food fed off of each other. I would only eat when I felt so crappy that I couldn't do anything else. I wouldn't eat until I felt physical pain and saw spots on my vision; until I was so dizzy I could hardly stand up. But this dizzyness, which follows in the wake of both starving and puking becomes an addicting high. You feel like you're doing something good. That was almost 2 years ago. But now, I'm not exactly sure what is bringing it on. Now I can see how messed up I was back then. And I don't want to enter that horror again.