CONFESSIONS OF A COMPULSIVE OVEREATER
By the time I started university, my binge drinking had begun to dominate my life. There were a few local gay bars I drank in, but being close to London, I preferred the anonymity of the sex clubs and backrooms there. Grossly overweight, I believed I was only good enough for sex in the dark with old men or wanking ten times a day on chat-lines. Eat-wank-drink-fuck-eat-wank-drink-fuck-eat-wank-drink-fuck, over and over and over again. It was a hideous cycle I couldn’t break out of. I was desperately unhappy, yet my clown persona protected me and the rest of the world from seeing what I actually believed I was; a useless and unlovable monster.