My definition of bulimia

I hate it, I hate it with every fibre of my being, yet every time I try to escape it, it tricks me, it tricks me with false hopes of one day making me happy, it tricks me into thinking I need it, it makes me protect it and convinces me it's all that I have, even though this is what's pushed away anything good in my life, it's a murderer that's snook its way into my life, disguised as some sort of friend, accomplice, turning everyone I love against me, sleeping in bed with me all the while slowly killing me. It's a bittersweet relationship, but definitely moreso bitter.