write about your experience with them, through yourself, your friend, or even what you think it'd be like
By HayleyMai on June 3rd 2009, lunch time.
on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
the silence rings in my ears,
an echo over the phone
and life makes sense
like a portrait whose lips i could
only see
zoomed out to see a nose
you knew the nose was there
but it never really clicked
and now you tell me
the brief horrid overline
and you deny that it happened to you
it's just food issues
but we both know better
it had control over you
but when you relised it
you took control back
you fought back
for your reptation
you are perfect, you can't have flaws
you must be thin,
you must get good grades
an and untarnished rep
and your rules about food
your skipping meals
your hundred cals a day
and food porn
are these not tendencies of anorexia?
and in a way i'm jealous
i'm jealous of your descent down there
i want to be that
i want to feel that
i want to be that strong
that weak
and my disorder, was just a fling
but you and yours are involved
just taking a break
mine can kill you faster
but i get bored easily
an echo over the phone
and life makes sense
like a portrait whose lips i could
only see
zoomed out to see a nose
you knew the nose was there
but it never really clicked
and now you tell me
the brief horrid overline
and you deny that it happened to you
it's just food issues
but we both know better
it had control over you
but when you relised it
you took control back
you fought back
for your reptation
you are perfect, you can't have flaws
you must be thin,
you must get good grades
an and untarnished rep
and your rules about food
your skipping meals
your hundred cals a day
and food porn
are these not tendencies of anorexia?
and in a way i'm jealous
i'm jealous of your descent down there
i want to be that
i want to feel that
i want to be that strong
that weak
and my disorder, was just a fling
but you and yours are involved
just taking a break
mine can kill you faster
but i get bored easily
There are no comments on freewrites, however you may message the author.
Fear
By Sara001 on June 4th 2009, terribly early in the morning.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
Fear
What is fear? What do I fear? I fear failure. No, I fear the consequences of failure. I fear the confirmation of that voice in my head that tells me I am not good enough, and never will be. That I will not be loved unconditionally by anyone because I am too screwed up. Too messy. That voice that insists my flaws must be hidden or no one will like me. That voice that insists I must not allow anyone to see my weaknesses, and there are many.
I fear being alone always....forever. I fear not being wanted, desired, or needed by anyone. I fear being left. I fear finding love and losing it. I fear betrayal. I fear hurt and pain. Raw, searing, rip-your-gut-out with a knife kind of pain. I fear not realizing my potential. I fear seeing my purpose and never achieving it.
Fear can be crippling. It can paralyze me like a deer in the headlights. I stand, frozen, unable to move, think, see, hope, dream... unable to breath. The deepest depths of fear does something to me. I reach it, see it, feel it consume me, and then something happens.
I still remember the first time my heart stopped like it was yesterday. I was 21 years old and lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to monitors and IV's. My mom was sitting next to me and we were watching Wheel of Fortune. That's when I felt it. It wasn't painful. Nothing hurt. But something had definitely just happened.
I put down my crossword puzzle and told my mother something weird just happened. I couldn't explain it, but I felt it, and it was something I'd never felt before. My heart had just done something strange. No sooner were the words out of my mouth and the Filipino nurse who had all but ignored my existence her entire shift, came running into my room with a young man in tow. She put me on oxygen while he checked the monitor and printed a strip of paper. The nurse asked me how I felt, and I told her exactly what I'd just told my mom. Something weird just happened. She stayed in my room long enough to take my vital signs, throw on a nasal cannula and turn on the oxygen. After a few minutes, she decided I was all right, and went back to the nurse's station.
The next morning, a tall, man in a long white coat came into my room and introduced himself as Dr. something, a cardiologist. He told me that my heart had stopped. That was what I'd felt the night before. It had stopped, and re-started, and that it would likely happen again, until one day, it would just stop. It was kind of sweet how he told me that I was dying, as if I'd never thought of this before in the nearly 6 years of being anorexic. As if I did not know that if I didn't stop, I would die. In his admittedly expert opinion, I'd be dead by the end of the summer. This was in march. He wasn't unkind is his explanation. Just very matter-of-fact, and I definitely got the sense that he had no idea how to handle me. I was not his typical patient. I was not a mid-lifer who'd abused her heart with cigarettes, fast food, and drugs. I did not live a sedentary life. He could not give me his usual spiel about eating less fat and exercising more. Those were the very things that were about to kill me. Even in my emotionless, almost robotic state, I was amused by his concern and attempt at fixing me. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that I was beyond repair. I'd accepted that long ago. It wasn't that I wanted to die. I just did not know how to live. And continuing to just make it through another day for years on end didn't exactly appeal to me. It wouldn't have mattered anyway because I saw no way out. I was what I was, and perhaps this was my destiny. To die a weak, crippled, 21 year old who's potential had only been utilized by her diseased mind.
From that day forward, I was mentally prepared to go to bed and not wake up. Each day that I did, I was surprised, and a tiny bit disappointed. Yet another day of endless walking. Another day of being stared at like a freak. Another day of the contempt of my sister for putting her and my mother through this nightmare. Another day of being ignored by my father because it hurt him too much to look at my thin body, or hear my slowed speech and slightly convoluted thoughts (it becomes much more difficult to articulate your thoughts when you have been starving yourself for a while). Another day of knowing what I've done to my mother's life. Another day of no one really wanting me around because they don't want to be there when i finally drop dead. Another day.
We lived in a two-story townhouse at the time, and I'd become so weak that I could no longer walk up and down the stairs (Yet, I could somehow, walk for miles and miles everyday). I had to sit and scoot. It was a real pain in the ass. So, everyday that I begrudgingly woke up, I'd do what I needed to do upstairs (brush my teeth, shower, etc), and then pack my backpack with everything I'd likely want or need throughout the day (journal, books, magazines, headphones, jacket, etc), and scoot down the stairs. I didn't return to the second floor until I was ready to go to bed.
Not exactly the life I'd imagined for myself at 21. Even I was shocked when, on my 22nd birthday, I stepped on the scale and discovered I weighed 62 pounds. I'm not sure what my lowest weight was because I refused to weigh myself again. I continued on with my routine of spacing out each bite of food with hours of walking for another couple months, so I am certain it dropped even lower. I just couldn't bring myself to look at a number lower than 62 pounds. Unlike many anorexics, I had reached a state of knowing exactly what I looked like. I did not look at the mirror and see a fat person staring back at me. I saw every bone, every gaunt, jagged line... I saw the reality of my physical condition and was disgusted by it. It's quite a war to live in... to be undeniably and unwaveringly compelled to do something, or in my case, not do something (eat), that results in further self-hatred and punishment. To hate yourself for what you do, and to hate yourself more for even considering stopping.
Sometimes I wonder if I had not so easily accepted my impending death, would I have actually died? If I'd fought the idea of death would it have come to me faster? Was my lack of fear of dying the door that I eventually walked through? Perhaps there is more than a little truth in the old saying, "The only thing to fear, is fear itself."
So, I do not fear death. But life is full of things to fear. You will never discover your true strength so long as you have a safety net. A safety net being anything and/or anyone that you can run to for saving whenever needed. It may be a person (a parent, partner, friend), a place, a job, etc. We convince ourselves these things are our, "just in case," last ditch resorts. But they are our chains, our prison, our cage. Our reliance on them only hinders us. How can you grow as a human being if you do not ever have to really prove yourself? Take a chance. Throw that bitch out and let's see what we're made of.
What is fear? What do I fear? I fear failure. No, I fear the consequences of failure. I fear the confirmation of that voice in my head that tells me I am not good enough, and never will be. That I will not be loved unconditionally by anyone because I am too screwed up. Too messy. That voice that insists my flaws must be hidden or no one will like me. That voice that insists I must not allow anyone to see my weaknesses, and there are many.
I fear being alone always....forever. I fear not being wanted, desired, or needed by anyone. I fear being left. I fear finding love and losing it. I fear betrayal. I fear hurt and pain. Raw, searing, rip-your-gut-out with a knife kind of pain. I fear not realizing my potential. I fear seeing my purpose and never achieving it.
Fear can be crippling. It can paralyze me like a deer in the headlights. I stand, frozen, unable to move, think, see, hope, dream... unable to breath. The deepest depths of fear does something to me. I reach it, see it, feel it consume me, and then something happens.
I still remember the first time my heart stopped like it was yesterday. I was 21 years old and lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to monitors and IV's. My mom was sitting next to me and we were watching Wheel of Fortune. That's when I felt it. It wasn't painful. Nothing hurt. But something had definitely just happened.
I put down my crossword puzzle and told my mother something weird just happened. I couldn't explain it, but I felt it, and it was something I'd never felt before. My heart had just done something strange. No sooner were the words out of my mouth and the Filipino nurse who had all but ignored my existence her entire shift, came running into my room with a young man in tow. She put me on oxygen while he checked the monitor and printed a strip of paper. The nurse asked me how I felt, and I told her exactly what I'd just told my mom. Something weird just happened. She stayed in my room long enough to take my vital signs, throw on a nasal cannula and turn on the oxygen. After a few minutes, she decided I was all right, and went back to the nurse's station.
The next morning, a tall, man in a long white coat came into my room and introduced himself as Dr. something, a cardiologist. He told me that my heart had stopped. That was what I'd felt the night before. It had stopped, and re-started, and that it would likely happen again, until one day, it would just stop. It was kind of sweet how he told me that I was dying, as if I'd never thought of this before in the nearly 6 years of being anorexic. As if I did not know that if I didn't stop, I would die. In his admittedly expert opinion, I'd be dead by the end of the summer. This was in march. He wasn't unkind is his explanation. Just very matter-of-fact, and I definitely got the sense that he had no idea how to handle me. I was not his typical patient. I was not a mid-lifer who'd abused her heart with cigarettes, fast food, and drugs. I did not live a sedentary life. He could not give me his usual spiel about eating less fat and exercising more. Those were the very things that were about to kill me. Even in my emotionless, almost robotic state, I was amused by his concern and attempt at fixing me. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that I was beyond repair. I'd accepted that long ago. It wasn't that I wanted to die. I just did not know how to live. And continuing to just make it through another day for years on end didn't exactly appeal to me. It wouldn't have mattered anyway because I saw no way out. I was what I was, and perhaps this was my destiny. To die a weak, crippled, 21 year old who's potential had only been utilized by her diseased mind.
From that day forward, I was mentally prepared to go to bed and not wake up. Each day that I did, I was surprised, and a tiny bit disappointed. Yet another day of endless walking. Another day of being stared at like a freak. Another day of the contempt of my sister for putting her and my mother through this nightmare. Another day of being ignored by my father because it hurt him too much to look at my thin body, or hear my slowed speech and slightly convoluted thoughts (it becomes much more difficult to articulate your thoughts when you have been starving yourself for a while). Another day of knowing what I've done to my mother's life. Another day of no one really wanting me around because they don't want to be there when i finally drop dead. Another day.
We lived in a two-story townhouse at the time, and I'd become so weak that I could no longer walk up and down the stairs (Yet, I could somehow, walk for miles and miles everyday). I had to sit and scoot. It was a real pain in the ass. So, everyday that I begrudgingly woke up, I'd do what I needed to do upstairs (brush my teeth, shower, etc), and then pack my backpack with everything I'd likely want or need throughout the day (journal, books, magazines, headphones, jacket, etc), and scoot down the stairs. I didn't return to the second floor until I was ready to go to bed.
Not exactly the life I'd imagined for myself at 21. Even I was shocked when, on my 22nd birthday, I stepped on the scale and discovered I weighed 62 pounds. I'm not sure what my lowest weight was because I refused to weigh myself again. I continued on with my routine of spacing out each bite of food with hours of walking for another couple months, so I am certain it dropped even lower. I just couldn't bring myself to look at a number lower than 62 pounds. Unlike many anorexics, I had reached a state of knowing exactly what I looked like. I did not look at the mirror and see a fat person staring back at me. I saw every bone, every gaunt, jagged line... I saw the reality of my physical condition and was disgusted by it. It's quite a war to live in... to be undeniably and unwaveringly compelled to do something, or in my case, not do something (eat), that results in further self-hatred and punishment. To hate yourself for what you do, and to hate yourself more for even considering stopping.
Sometimes I wonder if I had not so easily accepted my impending death, would I have actually died? If I'd fought the idea of death would it have come to me faster? Was my lack of fear of dying the door that I eventually walked through? Perhaps there is more than a little truth in the old saying, "The only thing to fear, is fear itself."
So, I do not fear death. But life is full of things to fear. You will never discover your true strength so long as you have a safety net. A safety net being anything and/or anyone that you can run to for saving whenever needed. It may be a person (a parent, partner, friend), a place, a job, etc. We convince ourselves these things are our, "just in case," last ditch resorts. But they are our chains, our prison, our cage. Our reliance on them only hinders us. How can you grow as a human being if you do not ever have to really prove yourself? Take a chance. Throw that bitch out and let's see what we're made of.
There are no comments on freewrites, however you may message the author.
Whhy ?
By Batmann on June 4th 2009, early morning.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
everyday i would wake up
not wanna eat
and if i did
i would go to the bathroom
and let all my food out
who am i ?
who is this monster i have became?
standing there looking
looking at what i have let out
can i stop?
do i want to
no
im gross
i cant stop
i need this
i need this to all go away
i just want everything to be
the way it was
the way it was
before you
before you took over my life
making me
telling me
how gross i am
and how skinny i should be
no !
its my life
im fine the way i am
why cant i believe this ?
not wanna eat
and if i did
i would go to the bathroom
and let all my food out
who am i ?
who is this monster i have became?
standing there looking
looking at what i have let out
can i stop?
do i want to
no
im gross
i cant stop
i need this
i need this to all go away
i just want everything to be
the way it was
the way it was
before you
before you took over my life
making me
telling me
how gross i am
and how skinny i should be
no !
its my life
im fine the way i am
why cant i believe this ?
There are no comments on freewrites, however you may message the author.
Binge
By xXaciremajXx on June 6th 2009, the wee hours.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
I never liked looking in the mirror
I would like what I saw
So to make myself better
I went to the bathroom and stuck a finger down my throat
I thought it would be sore or sting
It didn't
It felt good and I loved the rush of adrenaline
I loved the good feeling so I did it again
I kept doing it
I still do it
but...
I still don't like what I see inthe mirror.
I've never told anybody about my secret
I wouldn't really care if I did
I have worse secrets...
I would like what I saw
So to make myself better
I went to the bathroom and stuck a finger down my throat
I thought it would be sore or sting
It didn't
It felt good and I loved the rush of adrenaline
I loved the good feeling so I did it again
I kept doing it
I still do it
but...
I still don't like what I see inthe mirror.
I've never told anybody about my secret
I wouldn't really care if I did
I have worse secrets...
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monsters.
By INTOXiCATED on June 13th 2009, mid-afternoon.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
Most aim for life-
you aimed for death.
a beautiful, glorified death.
such a distance you came
so much battles you fought
to reach what you saw
as the perfect goal.
dread.
you lived with such dread,
how could you be happy?
its not possible to smile
when your silently weighing
a ciggarette.
another cup of tea should fill you
and maybe everyone will see
how little you really eat.
then you'll be happy.
put all the others in shock,
give them something to AIM for.
they're aiming to be you.
guilt.
can you really live with the guilt
of turning little girls in to monsters.
well, can you?
you aimed for death.
a beautiful, glorified death.
such a distance you came
so much battles you fought
to reach what you saw
as the perfect goal.
dread.
you lived with such dread,
how could you be happy?
its not possible to smile
when your silently weighing
a ciggarette.
another cup of tea should fill you
and maybe everyone will see
how little you really eat.
then you'll be happy.
put all the others in shock,
give them something to AIM for.
they're aiming to be you.
guilt.
can you really live with the guilt
of turning little girls in to monsters.
well, can you?
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Not Me
By charmander13 on June 15th 2009, lunch time.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
I never thought about it
any other way
except when
it's happening
to other people-
other girls, especially.
I can't comprehend
ever sticking
my finger
down my
throat,
puking
all my
sustenance up.
I always needed
my energy.
Perhaps, once,
or twice,
I'd skip
a couple
meals
or so.
Perhaps, sometimes,
I'd lie under the
dark night sky
and do my
sit-ups and
stretches.
But I always knew
when enough was enough.
any other way
except when
it's happening
to other people-
other girls, especially.
I can't comprehend
ever sticking
my finger
down my
throat,
puking
all my
sustenance up.
I always needed
my energy.
Perhaps, once,
or twice,
I'd skip
a couple
meals
or so.
Perhaps, sometimes,
I'd lie under the
dark night sky
and do my
sit-ups and
stretches.
But I always knew
when enough was enough.
There are no comments on freewrites, however you may message the author.
By drifter on June 22nd 2009, the wee hours.
on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
i wish i could
be as thin
as a girl with anorexia
so that my clothes would fit
and i can be
a street fashionista
but how can i resist
coffee buns,
cheesecake,
and brownies?
so i'll just keep on wishing
because i know
being as thin as an anorexic girl
won't mean as much
as tasting
a life i enjoy
be as thin
as a girl with anorexia
so that my clothes would fit
and i can be
a street fashionista
but how can i resist
coffee buns,
cheesecake,
and brownies?
so i'll just keep on wishing
because i know
being as thin as an anorexic girl
won't mean as much
as tasting
a life i enjoy
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Im too fat....and Im so hungry.
By BlackRimmedEyes on June 24th 2009, mid-morning.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
Im so hungry....but I cant eat. When I do, what ever it is I eat, even if its "healty", I get fatter. My hips expand, until they look like the Heidenberg. My boobs are big and fat. I guess thats a good thing. Sometimes. My butt is huge and its shaped like a balloon. Multiple balloons. My stomach, oh my god. My hip bones show on the sides, and between them, fat that looks like a baby bump. I hate it, I hate me. I could be curvy, if I lost the stomach fat, and my thighs will never look better. Strechmarks cover the inside of them, making wearing a bathing suit or shorts embarrassing. And its all because of the food. I eat too much of it. So Im going to stop.
I'll stop....
eating....
until....
I....
am....
good enough.
I'll stop....
eating....
until....
I....
am....
good enough.
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fatty
By Avalanche.Echo on June 27th 2009, mid-afternoon.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
I've been so good about restricting, so good, lost two and a half pounds in a week. Not great, but good, soon enough I won't be such a fat cow.
I barely snack--a mini 3 Musketeers or a quarter of a cashew periodically through the day. Then I eat dinner, normal sized, and purge it all up.
But today I pigged out, 220 calories in ten minutes, all fat and carbs and cheese, and I couldn't purge, and dammit, I'm a stupid fat whore and I'll never get skinny.
I barely snack--a mini 3 Musketeers or a quarter of a cashew periodically through the day. Then I eat dinner, normal sized, and purge it all up.
But today I pigged out, 220 calories in ten minutes, all fat and carbs and cheese, and I couldn't purge, and dammit, I'm a stupid fat whore and I'll never get skinny.
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By Avalanche.Echo on June 28th 2009, mid-afternoon.
on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
Two sandwiches.
One would have been bad enough, horrible, terrible, but TWO?
It's okay, it's okay, I breathe, I'll just go "take a shower" afterwards even though it's the middle of the day.
I'm still a stupid fat fuck-up, though. The goal, always the goal, is to eat nothing. Nothing until dinner. 60 calories max--10 from my stupidly fattening vitamin, 25 through Vitamin Water 10 (which has 25 per bottle, since there are 2.5 servings) and 25 through anything else... usually a mini 3 Musketeers or a couple of Goldfish crackers. 60 calories, then dinner-- fairly small to normal sized, no binging. And then I purge it up--there goes half the calories.
But no, today I had two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. Peanut butter! Oil, nothing but oil. And jelly--pure sugar. All on white bread, which practically has the nutritional value of a Twinkie.
So I wait ten minutes before I go to "take a shower," so I don't raise suspicion--they've been on my tail lately, looking at my computer screen, distracting me so I can't shower after meals; I think they're onto me. And then Mom sucks me in--asks me to take the dog out, then get her coffee, so another 10 minutes have passed. That's twenty minutes--if I drink enough Diet Coke I should be able to get something up.
But nothing comes up, no matter how hard I try once I get into the bathroom. Nothing but guilt.
One would have been bad enough, horrible, terrible, but TWO?
It's okay, it's okay, I breathe, I'll just go "take a shower" afterwards even though it's the middle of the day.
I'm still a stupid fat fuck-up, though. The goal, always the goal, is to eat nothing. Nothing until dinner. 60 calories max--10 from my stupidly fattening vitamin, 25 through Vitamin Water 10 (which has 25 per bottle, since there are 2.5 servings) and 25 through anything else... usually a mini 3 Musketeers or a couple of Goldfish crackers. 60 calories, then dinner-- fairly small to normal sized, no binging. And then I purge it up--there goes half the calories.
But no, today I had two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. Peanut butter! Oil, nothing but oil. And jelly--pure sugar. All on white bread, which practically has the nutritional value of a Twinkie.
So I wait ten minutes before I go to "take a shower," so I don't raise suspicion--they've been on my tail lately, looking at my computer screen, distracting me so I can't shower after meals; I think they're onto me. And then Mom sucks me in--asks me to take the dog out, then get her coffee, so another 10 minutes have passed. That's twenty minutes--if I drink enough Diet Coke I should be able to get something up.
But nothing comes up, no matter how hard I try once I get into the bathroom. Nothing but guilt.
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Painful Memories
By oWl Quill on July 10th 2009, the wee hours.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
I shove my finger
Down my throat
Gag
A few more times
All the foods up
On the ground
Why?
I can't stop
I hate it
I hate me
I hate food
I can't stop eating
Why can't I be thin?
Or have control
And not binge
Like a pig
And then have to
Throw up as punishment
My friends aren't helping
They're so caught up
in their own problems
Why can't I
Be thin and pretty
Like they are
I hate it
I hate me!!
why can't I just be perfect?
Down my throat
Gag
A few more times
All the foods up
On the ground
Why?
I can't stop
I hate it
I hate me
I hate food
I can't stop eating
Why can't I be thin?
Or have control
And not binge
Like a pig
And then have to
Throw up as punishment
My friends aren't helping
They're so caught up
in their own problems
Why can't I
Be thin and pretty
Like they are
I hate it
I hate me!!
why can't I just be perfect?
There are no comments on freewrites, however you may message the author.
3 Months.. 70 Pounds..
By Marie-xo on August 5th 2009, evening time.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
At 10 Years Old I Weighed 105 Pounds..
And It Just Kept On Going Up..
My Whole Family Is Fat..
It Affected All Of Us..
We Were All Losers Bcuz Of It..
But In Grade 8th..
Graduation Was Comin Up..
I Had To Wear Dress..
Wats Uglier Then A Fat Chick In A Tight Dress..?
I Decided At That Moment That I Didnt Wanna Be Fat For That Day..
So Thats When It Started..
Purge It Was..
I Could Enjoy The Comfort Of Eating..
And The Slight Discomfort Of Puking..
Didnt Really Matter.. Cuz The Inches Were Coming Off..
Quickly..!
The Day Of My Middle Skool Graduation..
I Was Wearing A Size 4..
And 3 Months Before I Wore A Size 14..
I Was There A Big Smile On My Face.. Proud To Be 70 Pounds Lighter..
And Here I Am Today.. Still Losing Some Weight.. But The Healthy Way.. Bcuz I Lost Half My Hair Bcuz Of It.. And Am Now Hypoglicemic Bcuz Of It..
And It Just Kept On Going Up..
My Whole Family Is Fat..
It Affected All Of Us..
We Were All Losers Bcuz Of It..
But In Grade 8th..
Graduation Was Comin Up..
I Had To Wear Dress..
Wats Uglier Then A Fat Chick In A Tight Dress..?
I Decided At That Moment That I Didnt Wanna Be Fat For That Day..
So Thats When It Started..
Purge It Was..
I Could Enjoy The Comfort Of Eating..
And The Slight Discomfort Of Puking..
Didnt Really Matter.. Cuz The Inches Were Coming Off..
Quickly..!
The Day Of My Middle Skool Graduation..
I Was Wearing A Size 4..
And 3 Months Before I Wore A Size 14..
I Was There A Big Smile On My Face.. Proud To Be 70 Pounds Lighter..
And Here I Am Today.. Still Losing Some Weight.. But The Healthy Way.. Bcuz I Lost Half My Hair Bcuz Of It.. And Am Now Hypoglicemic Bcuz Of It..
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Bulimia and Anorexia
By lunagirl15 on September 8th 2009, lunch time.on topic Eating Disorders : compulsive, bulimia,anorexia, binge, ednos
A look is all I need
To say i'm not good enough
Eating doesnt solve anything
It never will
Anorexia and Bulimia
For almost 2 years I fight
Still it feels i'm not good enough
Need to stay thin and tight
The bathroom my untold friend
Seen things no one has seen
Will I always be things way?
Can I look the way I want to be seen?
Weaker then you will ever know
Can't even get out of bed
And finally when I do
Eating is what i dread...
Eating for me hurts
No matter how hard I try
It just wont stay in...
And when it does all I can do is cry
Bulimia and Anorexia
That is what I must Face
Needing to come to terms...
I am no longer safe
To say i'm not good enough
Eating doesnt solve anything
It never will
Anorexia and Bulimia
For almost 2 years I fight
Still it feels i'm not good enough
Need to stay thin and tight
The bathroom my untold friend
Seen things no one has seen
Will I always be things way?
Can I look the way I want to be seen?
Weaker then you will ever know
Can't even get out of bed
And finally when I do
Eating is what i dread...
Eating for me hurts
No matter how hard I try
It just wont stay in...
And when it does all I can do is cry
Bulimia and Anorexia
That is what I must Face
Needing to come to terms...
I am no longer safe
There are no comments on freewrites, however you may message the author.
