Toto!
I know you from the food forum. I guess a lot of people would be surprised to find out that you, the creator of a million food topics, actually suffered from an eating disorder. But I'm the same - it's weird how something so often seen as a dislike or a fear of food, is actually more of an obsession.
I suffered from an eating disorder for three years and although I'm somewhat recovered, it never truly goes away. My love-hate relationship with food is here to stay, for the rest of my life I guess. At my worst point I was eating around 300 calories a day, and I would go into the bathroom with loads of food and chew it and spit it into the toilet like some disgusting ritual so I could taste the food without actually eating it. It still embarasses me to say that. I occasionally still do, though I've heard it's a health risk as it can cause stomach ulcers from the excess acid.
I still hoard food in my room. I have boxes and drawers filled with snacks and drinks that I don't think I even intend on eating. Again, obsession. I disgust myself sometimes because I absolutely adore food, so much so that I feel like a freak for doing so. I get genuinely excited about eating out in a restaurant. Yet it's tinged with guilt for daring to enjoy it, what a disgusting fat pig for 'lusting' over food in such a way.
I started starving myself when I was in a relationship with a bulimic partner. His obsession with perfection and weight loss manifested itself in me. He was constantly picking holes in my appearance, telling me I needed to exercise more, lose more weight, that other girls were prettier than me and he'd go looking elsewhere if I wasn't careful. He abused me in more ways than one. I began hating everything about myself, self harming, starving myself but it was never enough. I would go into these weird trance-like states where I would be above myself, watching me rushing round the room looking for something sharp I could cut myself with, only returning to my own body after I'd done so. This was my punishment if I ate too much. At points I honestly wanted to die because I couldn't see any way out.
I lost all my friends. I became convinced they were trying to fatten me up - looking back it's obvious they just cared about me and hated what I was doing to myself. I stopped spending time with them and isolated myself. I felt like I was living in a bubble. I still only have a couple of friends.
But things have got better for me. I broke up with the horrible ex and am now in a fantastic relationship, two years strong. when I started eating properly I put on a lot of weight, and since then I've always struggled to maintain it - I know logically I'm a normal, healthy weight. But I look in the mirror and see fat. I lay in bed and grab at my thighs, my stomach, my arms, and feel sick. But I'm scared to get back into the trap of dieting. I can't diet healthily, and I've tried - for me it's either all or nothing.
I have nobody to talk about this with. My boyfriend is very understanding but nobody can truly understand the mindset unless they've experienced it for themselves. I feel like I'm still fighting a hard battle and it's even harder to appear normal on the outside because it means nobody notices I need help.
Sorry for the wall of text. I don't know what I'm even trying to say, but I needed to vent. I wish you all the best and I hope we can all look back on these times when we're older and think of ourselves as survivors rather than victims.