Dirty Little Secret.

 

It’s half past midnight. I’m so disappointed with the way I’ve been eating that last few days. I go to the bathroom and start running the water in the sink. Why do I put my body through this? I know I’m only happy when I fast or severely restrict. I hate that I’m an emotional eater. I purge. I hate purging. As the stomach acid comes up flashbacks flip through my mind. I see the night I went to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. I see my frail body kneeling over the toilet. I see myself sitting in the shower under the scorching hot water, trying to get my body temperature up. I look at myself now, I see nothing but failure. Failure to please my parents. Failure to be there for my friends. Failure to look out for myself. Failure to prevent bad things from happening. Failure to have control. Failure to stick up for myself. Failure. Period. End of story.


Eating nothing for periods at a time.

Devouring food like an animal.

Never doing well enough.

Occasionally making myself purge.

Someday I’ll have complete control.