I don't purge very often. Honestly, I'm far too lazy to do it. Laxatives leave me on the toilet the majority of the day, and I get bored with hanging around the house waiting for the explosion to come. Puking is one of my least favorite experiences, and it's difficult to hide in a house full of people that work different schedules.
Last night, my ever so thoughtful boyfriend brought me home an order of onion rings from a night out with the boys at the local bar. I absolutely love those onion rings.
After I scarfed down half of the ridiculously large serving, I couldn't take it. Sitting in bed next to him, a cardboard box of one of my favorite foods in front of me, and I started bawling. How could I have been so fucking stupid to think, "It's okay. You haven't eaten much in the last few days."? I took off for the bathroom and got rid of it all. My boyfriend just conveniently had to come out to the kitchen to put some bottles in the returnables bin. Then conveniently, walked slowly back to the bedroom, listening to me gag the whole time. He wouldn't say it, but he was mad at me.
His logic is, "just eat". I get it. For normal people, that's perfectly fine logic. You're hungry, eat. You're not hungry, don't eat.
He held me as I cried, and asked me not to make a habit of it.
I hope I don't.
I hope I can gain enough self control to not be in that situation in the first place.
Thanksgiving is on Thursday with his family.
Dreading the fuck out of it.
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