Have you ever had a friend that you have hated? Loathed and despised? Yet chosen to indulge in their time? You know them, they feel safe yet are dangerous, and being with them prevents you from being totally alone. They're a friend you don't think you can survive without, and yet you certainly can't survive with. They are always there. Reliable and available whenever you choose to call. Yes with this friend, you need never be alone again.
With time for pain and feeling to lurk from behind the walls of safer boundaries you have created.
Your friend guards them away, dampens their arrival and eases their sting. She soothes and cares, tells you not to worry, not to feel that pain.
Momentarily she becomes your best friend. You intertwine yourself with her and absorb her warmth. Lost in comfort and protection from the outside world.
But realisation tip toes. Physical pain shoots and suffocation of feeling consumes. You remember why you hate her. Everything is worse now than it was before and the cheap exchange of her time for some time with yourself and feelings, however painful, seems worthless and ill thought through. Shame, embarrassment and desperation paves you in and prevents escape.
You discard her.
You hate her.
You loathe and despise her.
But you can't cope with this feeling alone. And you do now feel so desperately alone.
She's remorseful and twinkles a playful light.
A light thats warm and again comforting. 'Don't be alone." she says. 'Don't be alone."
Baby steps towards her, a path created away from the walls of shame and disgust. Your friend is not judgemental and does not care the state in which you arrive. Enticing and exciting your walk progresses in to a run. Embracing your friend with vigour and thanking her for support.
You know how this will end, you remember already that she is dangerous. Whirlwind after whirlwind in a downward spiral of destruction and despair. Bulimia, the inviting, reliable but deadly friend takes you in again and again.
By Jenna Burton