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Steve Blacknell, 55, used to sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night to eat in secret. He has been a recovering bulimic for 20 years.
âI think the first seeds of bulimia were sewn in 1974. I was an ex-rugby player. I wasnât a big hairy thing, but I was quite chunky and I used to attract thin women. One day a girlfriend said I was the fattest man sheâd ever been out with and that was that.
âOne of the main turning points was in 1980 when I made the transition from being a record company representative to a TV presenter. If youâre bulimic, you really donât want to be in a position where the camera puts 8lbs on you. One day at lunch, I ate my starter, main course and dessert, followed by a quadruple brandy and I got rid of the lot. I weighed myself when I got home and thought it was fantastic. I could eat and drink whatever I wanted and I didnât put on any weight. But, of course, it wasnât fantastic at all.Â
âI was living in north London with my friend, Maggie, who is now my wife. I wouldnât eat all day, but Iâd sleep-eat at night. Maggie would often get up in the middle of the night and find me wedged in the serving hatch to the kitchen, trying to get something to eat. She started to padlock the serving hatch, but would then wake up to find me cowering over her, begging for the key. We laugh about it now but it was pretty sad.Â
âI still eat during the night. Itâs an odd thing, but somehow itâs allowed because thereâs no one around and I feel itâs OK to eat alone. Back then, the situation was bad, but at least I could chat to Maggie about it. I think she probably saved me.
âThe thing about addiction is it never ever goes. They say an alcoholic takes each day at a time and cigarette smokers are the same. I suppose I take it one day at a time. I still canât eat big meals in front of other people. I find that really, really hard, and my digestive tract is up the kybosh. Itâs absolutely screwed.
âThereâs a lot of rubbish talked about bulimia being a womenâs disease, I think itâs a personâs disease. Iâm just not sure whether itâs harder for a chap to get up and say, 'Look at me. Iâm a bulimic. I throw my food up.'
âFor my money nothing beats
beat
, the eating disorder organisation that I volunteer for. I talk, not only about bulimia, but about myself and what I went through in the hope that it can help someone out there.ÂâThere is hope. There are people out there to talk to. It all seems too big because you build it all up, but there is help out there. There is light at the end of the tunnel.â Â
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