“The car is taboo, as it formerly hosted many scenes of Bulimia. I’m the girl who, during a lengthy red light, can make three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, consuming one before the light turns green.”

-Civilians v. Bulimic Mafia, 11/11/11.

My infamous case study study, illustrating differences in thought process between persons boasting Bulimic history and persons boasting not, is my most popular and highly referenced blog article to date. Published on 11/11/11, ‘Civilians v. Bulimic Mafia’ must hereby be modified in response to present reality.

Although I existed in the Bulimic trenches for 11.5 years, and despite what I thought to be a lifetime of being damaged, I no longer think passionately like a Bulimic. I no longer relate. I no longer care. I no longer imagine stuffing sandwiches into my face at a red light let alone making one. This isn’t true just because I want the cute guy at Whole Foods to make my sandwich for me. Yes, that is a perk. But it is mainly true because I’m different now, as are my priorities. And I just want to give you an update on everything.

The referenced 2011 post described The Godfather’s Michael Corleone and of how he communicates with different thoughts, language, and style compared to the rest of the world. It’s Civilians v. Mafia. Paralleling this with Bulimics, I stated that once existing in the throes of the binge purge behaviour, one will forevermore think, speak, and act differently than everyone else. There shall be no wiggle room as it’s completely different forever. One group does not and will never understand the other. Introduce Civilians v. Bulimic Mafia.

The case was presented as such:

The car is taboo, as it formerly hosted many scenes of Bulimia. I’m the girl who, during a lengthy red light, can make three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, consuming one before the light turns green.

In my life after Bulimia, I often munch upon apples, on peanuts, on something nutritious, in a healthy manner whilst driving. It’s just what I do. But when automobiles drive by, I hide the food. I hide the apple, pretending like I’m chewing gum.

So I questioned a friend representing Civilians about this behaviour.

Me: “Hey, when you spot someone eating in their car, what do you think?”

Friend: “I don’t think anything.”

Me: “What would you think if you spotted me ferociously making and devouring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at a traffic light?”

Friend: “I’d think you were late for work.”

Back then, in 2011, his response shocked the hell out of me, as I simply assumed he thought I was doing something naughty, unhealthy, and Bulimic. But I was wrong. He would have assumed that I was late for work. Plain and simple. The post continued to describe how someone commented on the processed sugar in my diet, causing me to become defensive and dramatic. Members of my Mafia chirped in, and a courtroom drama ensued.

So what triggered my mind into realising that I’m so different nowadays? To question my lifetime membership in the Bulimic Mafia? Firstly and most importantly, I don’t do things to prevent binges anymore. I simply live a life designed for optimal health. I walk about singing la la la without chains on my wrists. Secondly, I read something that caused me to become curious about gluten. As in, Pro-Consumption. How many people in my Mafia can claim that? The article commented about the goodness of gluten in bread, and I was intrigued because it sounded interesting, opposing everything that I frequently read at vegan gluten free princess blogs. Four years ago when emerging from the Bulimic trenches, my mind would have thought, “I can’t believe someone is endorsing gluten! They don’t get it. WE don’t do gluten.” And now? I want to know more because I like a good sandwich.

“I like a good sandwich.”

Those words wouldn’t have existed in my vocabulary 15 years ago, four years ago, last year, even. Reading those words in print have kind-of floored me, too! And here’s the kicker. Not only do I like a good sandwich, but I’m often eating it in the car. Healthfully. Because I’m late for work.

Having purged that old Bulimic junk, my operations are totally different. Just like sweeping a chimney causes fire to burn safely and efficiently, sweeping the brain causes it to think safely and efficiently, too. When asked about that Bulimic experience, I no longer reply, “I do everything differently because of Bulimia. My life is forever different than yours because of Bulimia. I can never let down my guard because of Bulimia.” Woe-is-me.

Rather, I state, “It was hell. I ate 20 grand in calories daily, and I purged it all.” End. Of. Story.

My Civilians v. Bulimic Mafia analogy no longer holds true. Yes, one might never escape from the Mafia. But one can escape Bulimia.

What do you think?