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- ANOREXIA
IS;-
ugly. being so hungry that it hurts...
but the hurt is good. It means you're becoming pure. having two ways
of having a "good day" 1) you didn't eat, or you ate the right things
at the right times and exercised for the right amount of time... so
you walk around proud, clean, and happy... head raised high thinking
everyone can feel your hipbones the way you do. 2) you're sick of
this shit, you're gonna get better, you can love yourself, you can
work through it all, you can. having a million and one ways of having
a "bad" day. becoming thinner and thinner and having the person you
love ignore it... being so fucking starved that you can't stop
yourself so you eat and you eat and it's really not that much food,
but you eat it and your stomach gets huge and bloated and you feel
like you're dying. You’re pissed because you feel like all those
months of starving are ruined. You hate yourself on a new, deeper
level. Eating a whole chick filet value meal in the 2 minutes it
takes to get home and crying hysterically the whole time. Almost
choking on a waffle fry. Saying, “No thanks, just coffee and
water.” With a huge smile and being happy about being able to
say it. Watching other people eat and being disgusted by it… or
being turned on by it. Or being hurt by it. A bowl of waffle house
chilli looking like a five star meal. A man with ugly blond hair and
bad cologne stealing you away and leaving you somewhere in the dark
for a long time. Dancing on clouds. Perfection. Reading Francesca Lia
block books and feeling right. Reading Marya and wanting to hug her
because she knows what it’s like and didn’t just dump some
bullshit onto paper for all the skinny girls to use as trigger
material. Knowing Marya is only 26 at most and she’s gray headed
and almost bald and has to be in a wheelchair because she
couldn’t stop either. Falling in love and not being able to let
go when you get hurt. Falling in love and enjoying the pain. The pain
means your almost there. Going lower ad lower because perfection is
never attainable. 100.90.95.80.83.72.85.90.110.103.101.100.96.91. my
mantra – 80808080808080.(75) Counting. Math. Making the quiet
louder. A bitch. Not as shallow as most people think. Consuming.
Crying because you had a bite of a cookie. Finding a way to enjoy
¼ of a bowl of unprocessed bran, because that’s all
you’re getting today you disgusting sack of shit. Spending your
day off perfecting the cucumber, tomato and salt salad. Knowing the
calorie, fat and carb content of everything… everything… I
swear to god, ask any of us anything and if we don’t know, we
will within a matter of minutes. Waking up, going to the bathroom,
taking a pee, weighing yourself, looking in the mirror and thinking,
“I can’t be anorexic… I’m too fat.” Shitting
once a week. Having bad dreams about people you love or want to love.
Acting like you’re tough and can take anything and being ripped
to shreds inside. Not being able to answer the question “why
don’t you just eat?!” looking at other people and knowing
right away. The way your eyes dart over a menu when at huddle house.
Complaining about your stomach hurting for a few hours before meeting
someone for dinner or lunch so you don’t have to bother with
picking. Going to the library and checking out life sized and having
the really pretty bird like girl at the desk raise her eyebrows at
you. Reading Steven Levenkron and thinking he’s a dickhead.
Trying to contribute the reason why to one thing. Knowing you
aren’t really fat but thinking it anyway. Never sleeping
anymore. Doing standing squats while you smoke. Rubbing your hands
over your ribs and smiling this sick secret smile... by Birdie
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