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Friday, July 23, 2010

Reverse Orgasms.

I was 124 this morning.
I keep telling myself it's my period waiting to start. But that doesn't make it better.
My appetite has sky rocketed. I just ate four slices of pizza, five chicken kickers, and half a large brownie. On top of the two slices of 50 cal toast with full fat butter and scrambled eggs I've eaten today.

Then I went and paid homage to Mia.

It's funny.
Sometimes, I wake up.

I'll be standing over the toilet. My fingers shoved down my throat. And I'm still me. I stop. Shaking my head like a dog. Make weird noises and stretch mouth as I prepare myself for another round of self-induced-gagging, and make odd comments to the graffiti on the walls. "Yeah, bitch, just like sucking your mom's dick!"
Then I dab at my face as delicately as I was taught with a rolled up wad of toilet paper, my pinky sticking out as my mother taught me in my etiquette lessons, before carefully folding the toilet paper, dabbing off the sputum from my finger, and then delving it back into my esophagus.
And then, as I'm stroking that flap of skin, making strange faces as I try to avoid scratching that delicate flesh with my nail....I stop, and think, "What in the hell am I doing?"
Then it hits.
The vomit comes.
Small mouthfuls at a time.
And I know what I'm doing.
But I don't process it.
It's an action that has no thought. It just is. I can't consider it. Can't really question it. If I do, the guilt hits, and when the guilt comes, so, too, comes the anxiety, and the anxiety brings with it food, and terrible self hatred, and eventually, cradling another bottle of store-bought sleeping pills to my breast.

I wonder what people would think if they knew.
Then I don't wonder anything at all.
I just do it.
It makes the anxiety better for a little bit.

I stop. Not when it's all out, but because I tell myself to. The toilet is full, my throat is aching. I think, "If I stop before it's all out, then it's not laziness. It's control. I start when I want, end when I want." Just like I first thought when I stopped eating.
"It's not anorexia, or an eating disorder. It's an experiment. I can stop whenever I want."

Or like I tell myself from time to time.
"I can eat normal whenever I want to. I just don't want to, yet."

....sweet denial. How you taste of salt and vinegar and bile on my tongue, wrapping me up in the warmth of your lies.

I'm so tired.

I want to go purge more.
But mostly
I just want to go to sleep.


  1. go to sleep beautiful.
    And wake up in the morning and please please please eat something that won't end up in the toilet.

    vanilla finnegan

    ps- I just realized that everything we eat ends up in the toilet some time!

  2. I think I'm in love with your blog. Maybe just smitten, since we've only just met. I don't have an ED, but holy hell some of you girls write so well. I didn't mean for that to rhyme. Am I making a bad first impression?

    I should stop.


  3. Mia always finds a way to wriggle back into one's life doesn't she?

  4. De Nie is such a big, big river. Such a sweet, comfortable boat ride.


  5. Denial. I know it well. I think we all do here. xoxo

  6. The ironic thing is that, we often stop ourselves and think "what am I doing?" and then we just do it anyway. But then we WRITE about it. The whole thought process. So it's not like we can deny that thought process happened. Which just adds another layer of contradiction and confusion. And contradiction and confusion always leads to just DO it. That is all we know.

    Ironic, huh?

    I love the way you describe this process, but please, please be careful. You're precious :)


  7. hi, i live in Italy and lucky for me i learned english in 6 grade. i like your blog it's very inspirational. i even started my own blog. please give me support.

  8. I adore your blog<3. I love the way you write.

    Denial, we all are in denial (sometimes).