I’m fully aware that my online persona is a bit of ‘I don’t give a fudge about ANYTHING’ and it’s earned me the reputation as being a bit of an arse. It’s not entirely untrue, I can be an arse at times, and a bit (lot) of a selfish knob. Underneath, I’m just a quivering scared mass of nerves that hides behind facial hair, glasses and a quick sense of humour, oh and calling people the c-word. I am trying harder to be a little bit more honest in my blogging and write about the good and bad sides of life.

This blog post has been thrown around my mind for many years. It’s been written and deleted far too many times, but, in what feels to me like a massive outpouring of blogging honesty – I feel in a better place to get it written. I’ve not really shared the story of my ‘Dark Passenger’ with many people before. It’s not the cheeriest of subjects. It’s possibly and for those who have suffered similar, it could be seen as a ‘trigger’ so – I suppose – if you’re sensitive, close this browser window now.

Here goes..

I’ve always had a fairly healthy relationship with food, I’ve always felt a bit funny with ‘meat’ products – especially anything on the bone – but I’m not overly fussy, and eaten well(ish). Leaving the parental home changed this, eating takeaways was easier than cooking, and processed foods were fabulous and quick too. So, I basically ate crap a lot of the time, I didn’t really notice, but I was getting larger and larger, it happened slowly. It didn’t really bother me when it got to the point I had bitch tits, was eating the massive bags of Haribo Tangfastics for lunch and ordering two meals at McDonalds just for me.

I was nothing short of a fucking disgrace, but I didn’t really see it. I was just.. me.

Then, something happened, a bit of a ‘personal trauma’ is probably the best description, I was a very dark time, and in what is best described as an ‘epiphany’ I saw me for how I was.

A fat, horrible, disgusting mess.

I didn’t like ANY aspects of me, but there was something so glaringly obvious I could change – my weight.

So – I started making myself sick.

Not after every meal, just every time I was feeling low, or disgusted with myself, it was a beautiful element of control in a time I felt I had none. Depressingly – it worked – I felt better for doing it, and I started losing weight. I obviously knew the damage it could do to me, both mentally and physically, but I just didn’t care.

It was helping me.

It’s a terrible thing to say – it really is, I’m a fairly smart guy, I knew that I could REALLY fuck my body up, but, all of that was just ignored. I needed to do it. I didn’t really speak to anyone about it, or seek help, which was, in hindsight a MASSIVE mistake. Eating Disorders seem to be the domain of teenage girls and models, not fully grown adult men, I just felt abnormal and weird, and thought that I’d be a joke. Obviously it’s NOT the case, not at all, but my dark passenger was telling me otherwise, and I was listening, I wish now – I hadn’t.

The thing is, I eventually stopped – it didn’t spiral out of control, I didn’t destroy myself physically, I just no longer did it. I think, I got into a much happier frame of mind mentally, and saw myself for what I actually was – just your average bloke. Obviously, I wasn’t the fat mess I was, but equally I knew I’d gone about it all the wrong way, massively so.

I do wonder why I’m writing this – I guess I hope someone like how I was then finds it, and realises it’s better to get help and talk about it, rather than doing nothing. I was really lucky to get out of it relatively unscathed, I am an idiot for hoping it will pass, I shouldn’t have done that.

I must admit to being very close to relapsing at times, especially when I’m feeling down about myself (more often than you’d probably think!) But, I’ve kept it under the reigns for six years or so now, I’m still really never happy with how I look – but I don’t think I’ll ever shift those demons. I’m just glad I’ve been able to turn the ‘volume’ down on those thoughts that pushed me too far before. I know i’ll always have my dark passenger, I just ignore his conversation.

So please, if you’re going through similar, seek help, talk to someone – loneliness and isolation helped fuel the fire during my dark days.

Anyway – as you were..

9 thoughts on “My Dark Passenger

  1. RozisTigger says:

    A great blog post, I speak openly about my Agoraphobia and anxiety issues, it is a dark place and as you say speaking to people whether its just a professional or somebody who will listen makes such a big difference. I think we all go through dark stages in our life and hopefully this post will really help others

  2. MsXpat says:

    Thanks for sharing. I can imagine it was hard to share especially it seems that only women can have the problem and get help. Many of us have issues with weight, for me I tried making myself sick when I was younger but I never was able to get anything out so my solution was not to put too much in. And so I was a svelte size eight for several years but looking back at photos of that time I looked half starved, for the most part I’m happy with me now. I’m not perfect but I’m me.

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  4. Jonathan says:

    Well done for sharing this, I’m sure people who’ve been through the sorts of things you’ve described so poignantly will be really grateful to you for doing so. I also think it’s good for society to be unafraid to talk about these types of issues in the frank way that you have.

  5. Ideas4Dads says:

    thanks for this – I think getting things out in the open can really help – a problem shared is a problem halved and all that – having read this the other week its given me the kick up the back side to look at some of my demons which I hope to blog about soon 🙂

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