Eating Disordered

She felt it coming, like a wave crashing down on the beach. She sat with her legs crossed and eyes squeezed tight begging for it to pass. Praying to whatever may be out there that she would get through it, she would resist. She had been doing so well! 5 days, she had done 5 days. Her stomach grumbled with approval. Her bony hands shook as she gripped the bed covers, rocking back and forth slowly, it would pass her head screamed. It had to pass.

Her legs made her get up against her will and stumble deliriously out into the hallway. ‘Go back into your room’ her head screamed. ‘Don’t do this, not again, you were doing so well’ tears began to well up in her eyes, it was like a magnetic force, there was nothing she could do now, it was going to happen and she couldn’t stop it. Legs shaky she made her way down the stairs, as slow as she could, her mind still begging for her stop.

She paused outside the kitchen, how big would this one be? 500? 1000? Her legs continued to tremble beneath her, unsure if they could still support her weight in her muscles deprived state. Her body betrayed her as her hand reached for the door handle and her stomach moaned in anticipation. It wanted this to happen, her body wanted it. It wanted her to do it over and over again, sating it’s every need until it was happy and then sit there and let herself expand like the failure she was.

Cupboards were slammed open carelessly, crisps, bread, cereal, chocolate, anything she could find that was edible. Her eyes glazed over. This wasn’t her, she was no longer in control; her body had taken control of her now, and would eat until she burst. The TV was switched on mindlessly as she piled the food high on the table, carefully calculating what was there. She started with chocolate. Nice brown milky chocolate which melted softly on her tongue before it was wolfed quickly down. If anyone could have seen her they would have seen a tear streaming down her face as chuck after chunk was pushed in as space became available. Despite the noise from the TV all she could hear was her chewing, the repulsive sound of food against her teeth. And gulping, she could hear gulping as her mortal delicious enemy was sucked down her throat.

Her eyes glanced at the TV between mouthfuls, catching glimpses of the TV show she had chosen to be tonight’s soundtrack. Her stomach was already full to the brim but she continued to shovel the remainder of the food through her mouth and into the seemingly bottomless pit of her stomach. She gritted her teeth as it stretched, her stomachs walls elasticising uncomfortably to the excess of food consumed. She should have stopped then but she couldn’t, her body was crying out to be fed, it couldn’t bare another day of starvation.

More tears fell as she ate the final piece on tonight’s menu. And then silence as she gulped down the last mouthful and regained control of her brain. Hand clutching her agonising stomach she ran to the bathroom, vomit rising as she did so, reaching the toilet bowl just in time as vomit spewed on in front of her.

Her tears fell faster now as her fingers reached down inside her throat to play their well practiced tune on their instrument. She played her music well, knowing the button to push to get her desired effect. She heaved loudly, no one else was home, and she didn’t care. A few more heaves and the ritual continued. Her music tonight was quick and dynamic. Moans and groans and splashes with dashes of sobs. She began to sob louder as the increasing fear of suffocation came when the food that was returning to the external world became more solid and harder to bring up.

Finally after what seemed closer to days than hours her ritual ended. She no longer saw food, only blood. Collapsed against the toilet seat she cried. She cried for the missed parties, birthdays and Christmases. She cried for her loneliness, her desperation, her self-loathing. She cried most of all for her mother, her scared mother fearing the loss of a daughter. She cried for dishonesty, for pain, for pride. She cried for her scars, her dizziness and her fat. She cried for her lost childhood, which she flushed down the toilet with everything else.

A door slammed outside, as she straightened up her hair and wiped the vomit from her mouth.  She picked up the empty boxes and packets from the table and threw them in the bin, preparing a smile on her mouth which she had trained to reach her eyes. A voice asked her something. A caring, scared voice in her own head. It asked her a simple question but one that made her heart stop and her brain freeze. Is this what you’ve been reduced to? This is your life now. This has always been my life she replied, it has always been and will always be my life.