The bulimia came and went, then reappeared sometimes after hours, days, even weeks. I craved information, to know if I was harming myself from the very first time I purged. I was slightly worried for myself as I knew nobody else was therefore I had to be on the ball and stop the cycle before I was really hooked on destroying myself. At college we revised for our winter exams. My revision was solitary. At home it was a cycle of black coffee, artifical sweetners, diet soda and sugary snacks instantly regretted and later purged. It was a sad existence.

At break I would resign myself to sitting in one corner with a mutal male friend who for all his charm and cheekiness ended up reading the dirty pages of a newspaper for an hour or two of our three hours break. I would wander into the room occupied by the events organiser. The college had replaced our favourite friendly and hip guy with another who was less so on all counts.  Nevertheless those girls monopolised his small office leaving me feeling uncomfortable if I unknowingly walked in. Their blatant stares, laughter and smiles directed out through the office to people in the adjacent canteen were off putting. They were raucous. Yet I wanted to be with them.

All the time I reminded myself that this was transitory. It would pass. They would come to their senses and remember the good times, or I would leave college in the summer and progress onto somewhere better. Even better, I would come to my senses and truely forget about them. It wouldn’t be the token effort to forget and forgive and just be… abruptly shattered as they sniggered at me, swaggered past with their exaggerated air of fun.

I had so much I was thankful for- family, new friends (though never close), health and lifestyle. Yet every day I would wish that it was all a dream- the fall out, the whispers and the loneliness. Above all loneliness. Who do you talk to when you fear anything you say will be overheard, misheard and misunderstand to make matters even worse? Who do you talk to when you know how sad it sounds- how sad you sound! I mean I had a persona to upkeep. I was liked by others. I didn’t want to lose that too, to be replaced by their pity.