When I was 13, I was sent away to a "mental" hospital to treat my severe depression and to help me heal from recent suicide attempts (3 of them). My second week there, I was placed in a room with a girl (I didn't know this at the time) who was bulimic, and suicidal. We became really fast friends, and would just spend nights in our room laughing hysterically at nothing. One morning, after coming back from breakfast, I realized that she had not followed the rest of us back to our rooms (we had two times per day where we had to stay in our rooms for an hour, basically "quiet time"). She ended up coming back about ten minutes later, her face was very very red and her eyes were watering. I asked her if she was okay, starting to panic a little. I thought maybe something didn't agree with her stomach and maybe she had just v*. She sat on her bed and said "Yeah, I don't know if I told you this...I'm bulimic, that's another reason I had to come here." So she did v*, but on purpose!


At that point I started shaking, I was so scared to be sharing a room with someone who made themselves v*, and on purpose! I was so scared that she might do it by accident one night while we were sleeping. I didn't know what to think. She was my friend, I didn't want to hurt her feelings by asking if I could be moved to another room. But every night after she told me that, I would stay up for hours on end, just scared to death. All the usual thoughts running through my head, "What if she v* on me? Why does she keep doing this?" I had never been more afraid in my life.


Luckily, my stay there ended about a week and a half later, sadly I haven't seen her since. I did recieve a letter from her about 3 weeks after my release, stating that she did get better from her disorder, and that she was just happy to be home and to be getting on the road to being back at a healthy weight. I was so proud of her, and relieved that she was no longer forcing herself to v*.


I can tell all of you, I would rather be anorexic than bulimic anyday. I would NEVER force myself to v*. But it really was one of the scarier points in my life. At that time I didn't know what emet was (all I knew was that I was EXTREMELY afraid of v*, or other people v*ing), but if I had known I would have let the doctors at the hospital know and maybe they would have been able to get me to some kind of treatment.


Anyway, since I had the time I thought I'd share that with everyone. Have a good rest of the day!