How I Escaped the Toxic and Ugly Life I Was Living In (Part 2)

This particular night was the second round. I don't remember what happened, but I was vomiting, and next thing I knew, I woke up on the bathroom floor in a pool of blood and vomit. Vomit up the walls, vomit all over the toilet. And I'm on the bathroom floor just like, what the fuck? And then it just hit me. These questions started to pop into my mind, like, is this as good as it's going to get for me? Foreign. Hey, badass. Welcome to Keeping It Real, the podcast where we ditch the nonsense, say it like it is, and redefine what it means to feel good in your body and your life. I'm Misty Tripoli, creator of the Groove Method, and I'm here to help you move, dance, and live authentically and unapologetically. So if you're ready to break free from the societal expectations, embrace your truth and find, find your own unique groove, you are in the right place. So let's keep it real, let's keep it wild, and let's keep it moving. I want to share the ugliest part of my story, because I know someone out there, listening out there right now can resonate with this shit. So I was living in Los Angeles. I was working about 70 hours a week at a job that I was pretty good at. I was making great money. Two cell phones, two computers. I was managing 500 people. I was at the top of my game. I was one of the top fitness professionals in Los Angeles at the time. I was in demand at most of the clubs to teach. I was training instructors. I was just. I was a badass mofo. However, like, on the outside, it looked like I had it all fucking figured out. It looked like I had my shit together. It looked like, you know, I was successful. I was living in Beverly Hills, driving a Volvo. You know, I was doing the thing, and I was fabulous. But again, my whole life was a fucking lie. Behind the scenes, behind the curtain, the reality of my situation was this. I was $75,000 in credit card debt, literally living on credit cards. They were all maxed out. I could not get any more credit, and I was making six figures a year, well over six figures a year. I was supporting and paying for a guy that was living off of me, and I was allowing that. I was severely bulimic. I was vomiting two to four times a day. Yeah. And I'd had that disease since I was 14 years old. Now I'm in my early 30s when the ugliest part of my life had all culminated to this. I was a complete slave to my job and the carrot of money that was dangling in front of me. I didn't know who I was. I was a different person with every single person in my life. I was one person in front of my boyfriend who was a complete fucking bitch. Like it blows my mind when I look back at and reflect on who I was in that relationship. And I was just a fucking cunt. Like I was so mean to him. So an ugly relationship just but a place for me to abuse someone and make him feel bad as much as I possibly could. Working at a job 68 hours a week for someone else. I had absolutely no clue who I was. I was different with my friends. That was another Misty. There were so many different Misty's. I had no idea who Misty was. And I was completely unconscious, in absolute misery. But yet on the outside it looked like, man, this girl's got it, she's on fire. And I was good at what I did. And not only that, I would over exercise. I was teaching 20 fitness classes a week. 20 and then exercising on top of it just in case there were some extra calories in my body that I needed to burn. Okay, that was my day. Fucking what I was gonna eat, how I was gonna get rid of it, how to maintain myself on the outside doing my job and making money. How was I gonna continue to pay my credit card bills? And what the fuck was I gonna do with this dude in my life that I've been taking care of for the last three years or four years actually. So one day after work, I'd already done probably three to four or five hours of exercise, killing my body. I was in so much pain, I was so toxic, I couldn't shit for a week. Like my body was toxic. I had literal boils on my neck. And on the way home from work that night, I did my normal thing. I stopped at all the like TACO Bell and McDonald's and all the shit I could possibly put in my car. And on the way home, I'm just shoveling it down my throat just as much as I can get into my, my mouth. And then I would stop at a CVS and buy out their supply of syrup of epcac, which makes you throw up. And I would go home, drink a bottle of epc, literally have to plug my nose and swallow that bottle of epcac and wait for the urge to want to vomit comes. And that's when I finally felt some form of relief, was when this, my body was like, okay, we're ready to purge this out. And what syrup of EPCAC does is it makes you keep vomiting because if you get poisoned, you drink it. So I would go into dry heaving. And this just, like, constant. Anyone that's gotten wasted know what? The dry heaves are the heavers. And I got to the point, and so it wouldn't stop until I literally would throw up blood. And that's when I knew everything was gone. I was clear and clean. And then I would do it again, Eat all the leftovers and repeat that. Typically, I would say pretty much every night of the week, and that was my life. But this particular night was the second round. I don't remember what happened, but I was vomiting. And next thing I knew, I woke up on the bathroom floor in a pool of blood and vomit. Vomit up the walls, vomit all over the toilet. And I'm on the bathroom floor just like, what the fuck? And then it just hit me. These questions started to pop into my mind. Like, is this as good as it's gonna get for me? Is this where I'm gonna be in five years from now? Is like, is this my life? If so, just take me now. Are you kidding me? I don't wanna do this for another five years. Like, I don't wa. I don't wanna do it for another day. Like, take me, because I don't know how to get to the other side. I don't know how to end this. I don't know how to make this stop. And I just need it to end. Like, let's finish this shit. And another thing that came to me was that I became aware this question of, like, I was not a question, but a statement that was like, popped in that was like, that I was not born to hate myself. Why do I hate myself? Why do I do this to myself? I actually started to ask myself that question. Why do I do this? I never asked it. I was just on autopilot, just doing the same shit, you know, just doing what you do. And then I finally started to question it. Like, why the fuck am I doing this to myself? Why do I hate my body? What am I trying to like? It was wild because I'd never questioned it. And something deep inside of me, it was like a knowing, like, this isn't right. Something's not right here. This is not. This can't be all that there is. This can't be it. And from that moment, that was one of the short turning points of my life that started a cascade of events and questions and moments that completely changed my life in a very short period. Of time, like, completely flipped my life upside down. Like, so much so that within two weeks, I was no longer throwing up. Like, bulimia left me. So stay tuned. I'm gonna be sharing more of the story and how that transition and transformation came about over those couple of weeks and what I learned. So see you in the next episode of Keeping It Real. All right, fierce ones, that's a wrap for today. Thanks for Keeping It Real and grooving with me. If you're loving this vibe, be sure to subscribe, share and leave a review so that we can keep this movement alive. Remember, this journey is all about you. You owning your own truth, trusting your instincts, and living boldly. Stay true, stay wild, and most importantly, keep being unapologetically you. So until next time, let's keep it real.