I told my mother yesterday, that I've been bulimic for 30 years. I can't imagine how hard it was on her. The first place she went was "Ohhhh... why didn't I see it? Why didn't I figure it out?" Which is why I put it off for so long, telling her... because that's what mothers do, it's just human nature... And she is the best mom, just the best, most generous, most genuine person I know, she doesn't deserve any sort of maternal guilt... And I know why she didn't know about the ED, it's because I was so good at hiding it. In fact, that's the whole reason to tell, to finally tell my mom, because this sneaky, slimey, insidious disease, it thrives on secrecy. Secrecy is one of its best weapons. And when you tell, when you take away the secrecy, you are disarming it. I can't go back, it can't get me again, not in that secret, destructive way, because I'm accountable now... It matters to someone else, besides myself. ED can't say to me "ohhhh who cares if you binge tonight... no one will know, it won't hurt anything..." My MOM is on the case now. I brought in the BIG GUNS. And it's funny, I'm 46 years old, and I need still need my momz... I'm smiling now, even though it was HARD, ya'll, it was so hard to tell, but it was the right thing to do. I feel like I took one of THE MOST IMPORTANT steps in my recovery. I told.
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