But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And Life Is Nothing "All she does is sleep all day. She is such a lazy bitch! She doesn't need a cell phone. She doesn't go anwhere. I work my ass off at school!" "She is very sick Al. I'm afraid she is dying!" They think that I don't hear them, but I do. I'm not asleep. No one could miss them yelling about me. It is like I don't even exist. If it wasn't for the food dissapearing out of the cabinets they wouldn't know. I am not a member of their family. I don't count. My brother runs out the door with his skateboard and one of the cell phones. He called here three times today on it. All his friends' phone numbers are on it. Before he goes I hear him say, "You take a phone and I will take one, okay Mom?" So much for one being for me. Then she started yelling at me when I said that he didn't need it with him. I tried to explain to her that he has been on it non-stop. That we have a limited plan. Too bad. She set in on how my brother goes places, does things, etc... "Do you listen to me? He can't take it all the time because he uses it to call all his friends and we have a limited amount of minutes!" No, she isn't listening. What was supposed to be for me has now become my brother's personal entertainment system. As he goes out the door he yells, "Fucking bitch! You don't do shit!" My mom lets him go. I say I am leaving too. "No! You aren't going anywhere!" Of course. I am the older one, yet I can't do anything. I start crying. I say, "I am like your bonsai kid! You don't allow me to do anything!" "You need to go back into treatment! I can't live with you!" Of course. She can't take care of her own daughter. I spent 687 days inpatient and she wants to send me back. I slam my head into the mirror, hoping it will shatter. She grabs me and drags me away. I grab a hairbrush and start beating my arms. Hard. "Do you need to be on a 72-hour hold?" she yells at me. One of her famous threats. I cry. I hate myself. I am not a member of this family. I am a burden. I look at her and it hits me; I can kill myself tonight. I suddenly feel much calmer. I calculate it all out. After I watch Joe Millionaire, when they both start going to bed, I can take 15 Tylenol, crawl in bed, and slit my wrists. I can write a letter explaining myself, one to Tali, and one to Kim. No more than that. Too much work. Then I walk out into the kitchen, tears streaming down my face. I am thinking to myself, "Yes, then two phones will be enough. No more medical bills. More food for them. No more family burden. Its for the best." Then my mom says, I am going out of town tomorrow, do you want to meet Tali? And I say, "Well, thats good because I was planning on killing myself." She looks at me, shocked. Secretly she has to be happy. She tells me she will kill herself if I do. I know the one person that would be happy is my brother. He is on the phone to his friends, complaining about what a bitch I am and how I don't do anything. I think back. I think back to when I was the most popular girl in school, to when I played sports and the only reason my brother didn't get the crap beat out of him is because I was his sister. What the hell happened? Ever since then my life has gotten worse. The best is over. On Friday I go to Stanford. I am almost tempted to tell them to fucking do something before I die... But I am not worth it. I am too fat. My day was terrible. I slept all day. When I wasn't sleeping I was bingeing. Then I would crawl under the covers and go back to sleep. Then I would wake up and puke. I puked three times in five hours. My throat and chest ache. I gave in and took an injection because I could barely breathe and my heart felt funny. Great... Just more weight to gain. I want...to...dissapear...into my dreams. Not my nightmares. Into the past. Into middle school. When I was anorexic, popular, a straight A student...before treatment and bulimia overtook my life. I suppose I am done rambleing. All my sadness cannot be expressed on this. I am miserable. The root of the word. Goodnight. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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