August 31, 2006
spiraling out of control
The first step is admitting it.
Okay. I have an eating disorder.
So, which is it: anorexia or bulemia?
God, I wish.
So…?
So, compulsive overeating. Otherwise known as binge eating disorder–BED.
But–
Fuck off, I know I’m thin. But I won’t be anymore if I can’t fix this.
Big deal, you eat a lot. That doesn’t mean you have a fucking eating disorder, for Christ’s sake.
You don’t understand. I can’t stop. I can’t go a half hour without shoving something else into my mouth. I eat until I’m full, and then I keep eating, and this isn’t even about how eating takes up my time or how I’m going to eventually gain weight; what’s scariest is that I eat until I’m so full it hurts and still I can’t stop. I keep putting food into my mouth even when my stomach’s screaming to please stop, please leave it alone, it can’t take any more.
I don’t understand why, either. It’s not the rich, savory taste; most of the time, I’m eating fruit or cereal.
And yes, I’m seriously concerned because having this little control over my entire fucking life scares the hell out of me. But on another level, yes, I’m scared of gaining weight. I’m as petite and skinny and whatnot as the next girl (okay, more than the next girl because everyone is fat in the States) but I still have body image problems. I look in the mirror and I don’t see a skinny girl with no hips and a small waist; I see slowly developing lovehandles and a stomach that isn’t flat or toned enough. But this delusion isn’t enough to make me starve myself or induce vomiting–I clearly don’t have the discipline for anything, much less anything like that. No, this image of myself only causes self-hate.
Great, I hate my body, just like every other woman alive. That doesn’t tell me anything about why the hell I can’t control my life.
Some sources say eating disorders are never about food. So what emotional trauma is causing me to lose control like this?
(How ironic that I would venture as far as to label my lack of self-discipline as a disorder, an actual disease. With my deep dislike of our society’s lack of responsibility and our tendency to blame medical conditions for problems of personal integrity or character. What a fucking hypocrite.)
March 2, 2006
my only secret
Today my father peed in the corner.
I’m not sure why I write about this, because this is not something I would like to look back on and remember. I’m sure anyone could see why I’d like to forget it as quickly as possible. But here I am, creating a record of the event.
The event is as current as they come; six minutes and counting. Let’s not go into the details, let’s not talk about my feelings, let’s not let it linger any more than it already will. But here is something I (of all people! I’m as open as they come… I think?) have never told any of my friends – I’m not sure I’ve ever dared to write it anywhere, either –
It’s because he’s drunk.
just a bunch of malarky