Purging

As previously noted, I've been reading Unbearable Lightness by Portia de Rossi.  de Rossi describes what she is feeling like I've never heard anyone describe.  I guess mainly because most are pretty uncomfortable talking about such things.  She describes purging as an honest woman should.  Loud, messy, runny nose and eyes, and vessels that pop around the eyes from immense pressure, displaying a tell-tale form of evidence.

I'm very glad to hear that I wasn't the only one who experienced this.  Like de Rossi, I had also heard of these other women who could vomit by force by an almost sheer will to do it.  Quietly, without turning red in the face and eyes, without water dripping from eyes and nose, these women could quietly puke and merely wipe their mouths.

As a teenager, I just found it to be a lot of work.  Forcing yourself to throw up is much different than vomiting by means of illness.  It hurts more, burns the throat and the taste that lingers is so much more than a teaspoon of shame.  It was something I had done that no one knew about.  I never even told my husband about it.  Why is it important now?  That was fifteen years ago.  It doesn't matter now.

I was so ashamed of everything I had eaten, even if was dinner--which is a required meal of the day.  I couldn't just shove a finger down my thorat, I had to stick it in there and jiggle things, again and again, gagging, fighting the urge to gag, fighting my natural instinct to stop.  It isn't natural to do this; the body knows this and fights against it.  I'd dry heave for a while until something came up.  Then the rest came up in small bits, splattering the toilet, creating an awful mess and more work.

My teeth always felt weird afterward, ever after I'd brushed my teeth.  It felt like I'd been eating candy all night after hours of trick-or-treating.  As a teenager, I wanted to do it more, but I couldn't bring myself to do it any longer.  It was painful, hard to hide in a small, old house with barely more than wooden paneling seperating the rooms.  It was no coincidence that I always showered immediately after dinner.

After much snacking or a large dinner, I'd resolved to doing better the next day, or working harder.  It was only one of 5,000 promises I'd make to myself and break.

As an adult, it was easy not to purge because somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, I'd learned what constant vomiting will do to your esophogaus and teeth.  I value those parts of my body.  It would do me no good to have my esophogous ripped apart by stomach acid, nor to have my teeth rot out of my head.

So today, as a full fledged (apparently) adult, I promise myself to eat less tomorrow, to work harder, to not sit on my ass in front of the television. 

Make that five-thousand and one.




(speel check knot working todday & i'm very lazzy--sory for esophogous.  Snuffle-esophogous)