Despite my bulimia, I still tried to socialise occasionally. This isn’t to say that bulimia didn’t taint my socialising habits, or impact me throughout those experiences. When I look back, I remember my teenage years in relation to what stage of my eating disorder I was in. I started binge drinking socially at 14, but the sixth form years were the most eventful in terms of parties, antics and music.
Often I would wind up with my head in the gutter because I hadn’t eaten for a number of days. I would have a croaky throat from purging but endure taunts about how it was because I smoked too much: which I went along with. I would need coffee to function, and hear about how much of an addict I was. I was addicted, but not to coffee, to bulimia.
Sometimes I remember events though. I remember falling in love with art and photography. I remember the day trips to London to see museums and a world that was entirely new to me. I remember the music, being lost in my head, and snippets of drawings from my journals at the time. I remember ‘Sheila’ by Jamie-T infiltrating many memories because my musical friends and I would sing it and play it sat around in a kitchen, with pots and pans for drums, and a strange sort of harmony that only belongs to a bunch of high teenagers.