Here's a quote from my journal in January 2010, when my eating disorder behaviors first really developed.
I took a laxative today from my the bathroom cupboard. Mom shouldn't notice, I didn't finish the pack or anything and she doesn't use them often enough to know how many should be left. I'm not having a full blown eating disorder or anything, I just need to get back down to xx pounds, and I ate five of those caramel chocolate bars we're selling for gym.
Looking back, I wish I could have told someone, and had someone tell me that I was getting sick, and I was going to lose control. That taking laxatives to drop a couple pounds because I ate a lot of chocolate wasn't normal. At all.
I even remember where I was when I wrote this journal entry. It was in the hallway of my highschool, right across from where my homeroom English and Geography classes were. About half an hour after school, before walking to gymnastics practice.
Maybe knowing what would happen to me wouldn't have changed anything. But then again, it might have.
If I have one regret, it's not calling my mom, and telling her everything that day.