Perfect Mom...What exactly IS perfect??

  Let me first start off by saying that my title is a complete oxymoron. I am NOT perfect by any means. I am far from a perfect mom, other than the fact that I love my children unconditionally, I am blessed with an amazing husband and friend who is also an amazing father. My secret, my perfectly bad secret, is not in any way perfect. It is self destructive, disgusting, a disease I have let control me, and it is dreadfully bad. So
when coming up with a title for my new found project of blogging, which I have absolutely no idea what I am doing, other than venting, I pondered on the notion of what the real meaning of the word Perfect is. I know I spend much of my time trying to be perfect in every way possible, but is it really possible? What am I doing? I guess part of my downfall into a horrible world of binging and purging, obsessing over the scale, criticizing everything about myself, and unintentionally becoming oblivious to the realities that were surrounding me, stemmed from the idea, perception and belief that I had to be perfect in every single way, shape and form.

  Now to answer what the real meaning of Perfect is. It's funny to me that when you look up the word Perfect in the dictionary it has a few different meanings that no matter which one you choose, in my mind, it spells insanity. I have driven myself insane by trying to be perfect. According to the Oxford Pocket Dictionary and Thesaurus, Perfect is "Complete, not deficient", yea right; "faultless", I blame myself for EVERYTHING; "blameless in morals or behavior", mmm-hmmm; "exact; precise", have you seen my house? The dictionary then gives other words similar. The ones catching my attention were, "flawless, righteous, faultless, spotless, pure and immaculate". Looking in the mirror I see none of those. Is that really what I have been trying to be? How can one person really be flawless or faultless? We ALL make mistakes, I make them every day. "Blameless in morals or behavior".  To be honest, I cannot blame anyone but myself for the choices I have made.
 
I have indeed made some pretty bad choices and hands down, I believe the worst choice was that first day back in 1998 when I very first stuck my finger down my throat. I can remember where I had eaten, Texas Roadhouse; what I had eaten, Chocolate cake; and the feeling I had experienced once the purge was over, Power. I never fully understood what that actually meant or how dangerous feeling so powerful really was. It would be 12 years later, taking us to now, that I am finally understanding and realizing how dangerous my choice had become.
 
  I must clarify to you that I didn't feel power over any one being, situation, or event. I was feeling power that I was purging not only food but I was purging all of my stress, anxiety, fears, frustrations and anger. When I was a teenager struggling with the normalities of my parents rules, girlfriends fights, heartbreaks and even the constant struggle of what I wanted to do with my life, I took to binging and purging as a way to feel great and look great (I was loosing a lot of weight fast), and it was awesome. The first time I purged was like a life high. It was instant. It lasted a while. Then the next time it was good. Eventually the purges became awful, but I couldn't stop. I purged harder and harder and more and more trying desperately to get back to that initial "high". Maybe I was like a meth addict or alcoholic who takes more and more to get that first high that you really cannot duplicate in its whole. I eventually went from someone who thought that I was in control of the disease, to being someone who was letting the disease control me. 

  I could go on and on about my past as a bulimic, which did take a "break" from 2000 til February 2009, but I really want to focus on now. I am now at a place in my life where I am committed and focused of life long health. I am 30 years old. I have 2 amazing kids. I am a woman. I need to stop drowning, bypass surviving, and I want to THRIVE. I want to LIVE. I want to be around to see my kids grow up and marry and have kids of their own. I am going to be lucky to be around in the next maybe five years if I continue on the path I have been on.  This is what brings me here. I am sharing my story, thoughts, frustrations, steps forward, steps backward, but all of it here. I want to hold myself accountable for my actions, learn how to be honest with myself, fight to be healthy, happy, confident, and courageous in my life and within myself. I want to get away from the belief I have given myself that 113 pounds is cool. Size 3 junior jeans is hot. XS shirts are amazing and eating whatever I want because I know I can throw it up later is pretty freakin neat. I want to enjoy life without obsessing over a scale, over-analyzing myself in the mirror, and sacrificing those precious moments with my kids because I am thinking too much about my disease and what I can accomplish with the next binge.  

  So here I am world. Unedited. This is my life and my journey to not be perfect. To not have a perfectly bad secret.  Instead, to be real, happy, and the best that I can honestly be. Easy? Not even close. Challenging? Absolutely! Am I ready? You bet. This is the day I am making a choice. One I will not look back on as a mistake but instead it will be the best choice I have ever made.