Eating Disorders

Eating Disorders

D. P.

University Of Dayton

From the diary of “X”

If everything's fine. And I'm together. And dare I say it happy, then how come I found myself in the bathroom of Border’s toilet. Knees straddling the toilet. Tears streaming down my face. While statistics from university on recovery rates, and thoughts of him, and thoughts of how I was criticized today after I've coordinated the whole project for the whole summer float through my head. As the mochachino, cookie, and panini, and the fact that I didn't exercise today taunted me. And I just cried. And did it, although I told myself not to. I Told myself not to start.

As I felt my finger get wet and sticky, and felt the rings of cartilage or muscle, that feel so fucking pink... and felt the contents of my stomach rise up. And the whole time, I told myself not to. Because I know about the tooth decay, and the almost non-existent recovery rate. And I know that he would never forgive me, and I could never tell him.

And I just couldn't stop.

One false alarm. Two. Three. Four. Gagging retching noises.

And the tears just kept on coming. And I couldn't stop.

And I couldn't stop wondering...

Why am I so weak? Why can't I stop? Why am I trying to fuck things up?

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