Just a little less needy.
At lunch I completely transformed into a person whom I am not very well aqquainted with. I shit thee not it was if another entity had temporarily switched places with me, and I was being controlled. I do not remember how it started but I began speaking very destructively about myself. I could feel the smirk curling upwards on my face, the tone of my voice almost taunting, mocking not only myself but the person who was engaged in conversation with me. My lips were moving, but surely it was not really me speaking, was it? “I can purge if I want to, I want to purge. I want to throw up so much my blood comes up, I want to cut myself, I want to destroy myself. What are you going to do about it? It’s my body, It’s my choice. Not yours, mine.” After the other party walked away in hurt and fustration I lost it. I was throwing out harsh words meant to instill guilt in every direction.
Arriving to class in a fit of tears I asked for a pink slip to my guidance counselor. I had not really planned on taking myself there though if it were on any other issue I might not have a problem. My guidance counselor is also one of my closest and most trusted friends, I have known her well over six years. However in the end I did end up walking into her office and explaining very briefly about the E.D. She said she was there if I needed it and no, not to worry, my parents would not be told. Halfway into sixth period she had to leave her office to take care of other responsibilities, and I was to go back to class. But did I? No, that would be just to easy.
I found myself situated in one of the most dangerous spots for a destructive teenage girl with an eating disorder: A bathroom with
A)A stall big enough to move around in comfortable that also contains
B)It’s own mirror.
I stood there while my hands moved ferociously all over my body picking apart every single detail. My palms lifted up the ends of my skirts so that I might twist my legs sideways and see my thighs. My fingers pinched angrily at the fat on my stomach then moved to rip at the roots of my hair. Whispering under my breathe I stared at the girl looking back at me through the mirror; “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” Like a nightmare I found that I no longer had any will left, Ana had claimed me as her possession, her playtoy. My finger found its way to the back of my throat sliding in circles, playing with my reflex system. I wretched and coughed spitting into the toilet. “Again, do it again.” She hissed. I bit my lower lip to keep the sobs from escaping, the sound would echoe against the tiles on the wall, I would be found. My attempts to fight back were feeble. “You fucking sick cow, look at all the fat on you. Just look at it! Your so pathetic you cant even fucking make yourself throw up, don’t be such a sissy. Promises, you promised not to purge? It doesn’t matter what they say, they don’t know how good for you I am. Nobody understands, he doesn’t understand. Do not let anyone take me away from you, you need me. Without me, you would be nothing. It is only because of me you are getting this far, listen to me!”
For twenty minutes this routine was repeated. Walking to the mirror then back to the toilet, my finger sliding down my throat, stopping myself just in time to do nothing more then wretch a little, the crying, the voices. At this point every inch of me was trembling from the exhaustion of trying to resist her. My bones were aching, my stomach was turning. Ana crumbled me literally straight to my knees in front of the toilet, it was time to throw up, but then - right then - the bell rang & girls filed into the bathroom. I snapped out of it and fled, I found someone I knew I could be safe with. But what happens next time?
