My Diabulimia

When I got back home from camp I had another blow. I ended up being sexually assaulted my S. I felt disgusting. I felt maybe I had led him on; I was devastated and ended up self harming again over it to try and punish myself. When I got back to school I told what happened to a friend who told S who denied it, and then started to make my life a misery. He told everyone I was lying about what happened and turned them against me, they where told if they talked to me they would get beats and I was left alone. The few people that dared to be seen with me would be pelted with food when they walked past people with me, and one person even threw a brick at me. I learnt that I would have to plan my way around the school to avoid seeing people that where the worst as far as the bullying was concerned. In the end I just found it easier to just lock myself in toilets when I wasn't in lesson.  My eating and injecting where next to nothing, I felt ill and dizzy all the time, I was self-harming on a daily basis, and tried to kill myself on several occasions, all of which obviously failed, I started drinking to excess with the 3 friends I had left until I puked or passed out, and I was angry all the time and my good relationship with my parents was completely destroyed, I argued with teachers all the time and even kicked a science teacher, I started smoking as I was told it was an appetite suppressant, and I would do things that I wasn't even aware of and there is a long period of my life I don't even remember because my blood sugar was so constantly high. I was mentally and physically a wreck, my parents thought I was on drugs (thankfully though I wasn't), and I had many different councillors, one of which actually gave up on me. The councillors all focused on my self-harm and anger as I didn't tell anyone about the eating, however when I told them about the insulin or my parents did they didn't care, they didn't realise the severity or the consequences of it and the fact that if they had faced my diabulimuia I properly would have been allot more mentally stable.

At 13 I met A, who became my boyfriend. For a long time I kept my problems from him, though it was pretty hard to, I was skipping school and my wrists where cut to shreds, my insulin stayed unused, however A did help me eat, however in very strange eating patterns, for a while I refused to eat anything but nice biscuits. Then one day I decided to tell him everything I was sobbing uncontrollably and I think A was pretty overwhelmed. I stayed at his house a few times instead of going to school a few times, his mum didn't really mind as I had got so close to his family I felt comfortable to talk round the house in short sleeves so she had seen my scars and I had talked to her about them. After a while of skiving my parents pulled me out of school and I was given a month off school for depression. In that month I did go a bit more insane, exercising like a nut and weighing myself at exactly 3:02 am each day to see how much weight I had lost, I also hid my insulin skipping and lack of eating from A, at that point I really did not get on with my own parents so I spent most of my time round A's so it was pretty hard to hide it all from A but I did manage it. I would tell A I had eaten and injected while I was with my parents, and I told my parents I had eaten and injected while I was with A. I was almost happy in my cycle of madness, I heard voices, I ate only certain foods with certain cutlery, and someone could have taken my insulin and I would have never known I never even used it. I started getting more and more angry with A, and it really wasn't his fault, I was just too insane and high blood sugared to control myself. Was stilling drinking heavily and hiding it from A who really wanted to help me but I didn't want to change and we would end up fighting and I was just run away from him to find somewhere to drink. I don't think that I was dependant on the booze I just liked the way it made me forget it all.