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But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.

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One Step At A Time

Deemed too sick by all to go to public school, I am now allowed to do home study. I am the walking dead on campus. "If they make her go, she might have a heart attack! She is too weak, too tired. She is constantly throwing ketones. She sleeps 18 hours a day. We are trying to get her back into treatment. You cannot send her to school. It will wear her out to the point of death."

Now I am free from all humanity. I am not obligated to have any social contact. I do not need it, I do not deserve it. No one to scrutinize me, no one to whisper behind my back, "Why does she drink diet soda? Is she anorexic?" No more shame in everyone seeing my pathetic attempts to act normal, no more groups of people to stare at my fat, comment on the fact that I gained or lost weight... yes, I am free. Whatever happens there will no longer be a hundred watching eyes to take count of my appearance. No one will know.

I ran out of soda tonight. My mom wouldn't go buy more. What?! I couldn't stand the thought of not having any diet soda. I would die of dehydration. My mouth tastes as if it has been wiped with cotton. I drink 15 liters of diet soda a day on average, yet I am still thirsty. It is unquenchable. My staple in life. In Ancient Greece before insulin they called diabetes the "Sweet Pee" disease. They had big buildings set up soely for diabetics with wells inside and latrines. They would go from well to latrine, well to latrine, slowly dying of dehydration and malnutrion. I, who usually gets tired at the thought of walking to the mailbox, walked all the way to the drive through dairy. I was hit with a surge of energy. I tried to run but the whole world spun and went black. I picked myself up and decided that I would have to settle on walking despite the cold. Cars went by. I longed for a ride. My fingers went numb, my whole world spun. "One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other..." I made it. I bought a two-liter Diet Coke and four cans of Diet Sprite. Now to walk home. "One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other." I want to lie down on the sidewalk. I feel as if I am floating. I made it. I am home. I stumble in the door. "Jesus, did you run all the way there Gwen?" Hmmm... does a walk take that much energy? I am okay...

11:16 p.m. - 2003-02-24
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