My doctor calls it disordered eating. My therapist called it anorexia with bulimic tendencies. My parents don't understand what it is at all. I call it control. I'm a calorie restricter, a laxie addict, a sometimes puker, a sometimes former cutter, a writer, a sister, a fuck-up of a daughter, but I'm never, ever, just me.
Thursday, July 26
Shitfuck
Tonight, when I get home from yoga, don't eat, and wait until everyone goes to sleep, I am going to let myself put a nice deep red line in my skin. I'm still deciding where. Maybe my inner thighs or my hips. Somewhere to remind me that I need so much work and I am so far from achieving my goals.
I was horrible today. Yesterday I ate like a good girl. Mostly fruits and salads and some small nibbles of cheese and crackers but today I fucked up so horribly. I don't think I can even recount for you everything I ate. Someone please tell me how to empty myself. I am still out of laxies and I want to puke soo bad but nothing comes up. I just gag on air and my eyes burn and I hate myself so much. I just want to get drunk and cut off all the fat. Slice it off my flabby arms, thunder thighs, rounded belly. Fillet myself like a fish until there's nothing left but perfect bloody bones. I want to make it all go away....
Can anyone hear me cry?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment