I chose to write this in my more private blog (if this blog is indeed private) because not many people actually know about this blog, save for my boyfriend, very inner circle of friends and some random people I do not really know who chance upon my blog via Google search(it's not like they can affect my life directly anyway). This thing really puzzles me, and a little venting might lead me to set facts straight and touch the issue with more critical introspective action.

This person I am concerned with has been really close to me for sometime now, and she does know a lot of things about me. She is one of my closest college buddies, and she was there to witness the highlights of my college life. She knows my parents, and my parents also know her. We also joined the same organization in school, and we even went home together. She knew about the things that transpired when my boyfriend and I were just hooking up and also during our share of tough times and happy times. She knew of my innermost secrets, and some of which I did not even dare talk about with anybody else before., i.e, she knew of my "illegal" relationship with my boyfriend back then, she was the first person closest to me that I smoked in front of, and she knew of my bulimia. As everybody now knows, my relationship with Jericho is now accepted by my parents, I already stopped smoking for a year now, and I have stopped poking my throat with a toothbrush.

Bulimia has been one of the stumbling blocks that I deal with every single day of my life. I must say that its impact on my life has been significantly reduced because of the support of people who believe that this is a real thing that I am experiencing, and I am not some random crazy ass attention-hungry girl. But admittedly, and obviously enough, this fight was never easy for me. I still encounter occasional bouts of pleasure derived from the pain caused by a rumbling stomach and the desire for otherwise tasteless food. I am starting to erase the thoughts of me being fat though there are times when I secretly still want to nag myself in my head about how huge I am. Sometimes, I still look away, want to cry and not eat anymore whenever some thin girl passes by. I torture Jericho with questions and sentences whose essence is the same: "I'm fat, no? Please tell me I am so that I can do something." It's very difficult to change a negative mindset, much so if it has been functional for the person who bears it. It's painful, not just for me, but also for the people who care about me, and we have to endure this pain every single day. The last thing I need are people bombarding me with statements and actions that make me want to regress and screw all the efforts that I have done just to win over this disorder.

Let's go back to this friend I have. I have observed that every time we had a chance to bond, a chance to talk and get back together (our busy schedules did not allow us much time to hang around with each other anymore unlike when we were freshmen), she would blatantly say to my face how fat I was getting, and how thin she was. Her statements would go in the lines of:


Fine, I get the "fat" part, because relative to my old bulimia-stricken body, I really gained flesh...but the "how thin she was and how I'm not as thin as her" part I don't get. It's true, she really is thinner than me, but why will someone, who knows that her friend has a history of bulimia and is actually still in the process of healing herself would actually say these statements in her face? It was very difficult to dodge her first "look at me, I'm thinner than you" statement. It was like a heavy, blunt object slammed into my skull. I was half-way between telling myself that I would jam my toothbrush into my throat deeper this time and saying that it's okay, you're not fat; you're healthy and that's all that matters. I was caught between wanting to cry and smiling; taking her comment down to very pits of my heart and dodging it away. In the end, I chose not to succumb...at least not in front of her.

I bore her words until I got home. When I got to my room, I cried. I was puzzled and angry, but and at the same time, I tried to understand her. Maybe she thought that this whole thing was totally gone, and she could lambast me as a joke, just like she did before. Or her ignorance of my situation led to this behavior; she did not mean to make me feel this way. But some voice in my head says otherwise. It said that it seemed that either she didn't care, or she just wanted to screw me over. As evil as this may sound, but I am having doubts if she really is a friend for these reasons.

Whatever her reason/s are, I was hurt. She nearly blew down the defenses and rehabilitation work done in and around me. Thankfully, one of the skills I am training to perfect in Jericho-rehab now (haha) is to stop, think and then raise the finger(not in the literal sense. He's totally not a cursing coach, okay. ahaha).

But still...this whole thing---her attitude, her statements--- just stumps me.