But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Living a Lie to Survive I am running, screaming, crying... From them. My family. And she holds my dog captive, who is so emaciated, dirty, and sick that he resembles a rat. She, my mother, cuts his stomach open and a bright red drizzle flows out, following the blade she uses. Behind me six big men in green hospital scrubs pick me up and drag me off. It is cold and foggy. I scream.... I wake up. I look around. I see the bag of chocolate chip cookies and stuff one in my mouth. I panic, and stuff in another. Then another. Soon the entire bag is gone, and I feel sick to my stomach. I panic. What should I do? If I take my insulin, I will gain weight. If I don't my sugar will run high, and I wll get ill. If I purge... It will be against the program. And I could relapse. But I can't sit with this whole bag of cookies. But I haven't puked in 4 1/2 months... I stand over the toilet. I stick my fingers down my throat, three of them. My stomach hurts so bad. And I don't really believe it will come up. But it does. Like I am in a dream, that there is nothing to it, like I never woke up. And maybe I didn't, a long time ago. I vomit and gag until there is only bile, and not even the salad from dinner left. Because I am so fed up. Because I am tired of trying to prove myself to everyone else. Because I want this to be my own life or death... That was Tuesday. After my cardiology appointment, when I found out that I need to have more tests done. After my mom yelled at me about money, after my aunt complained about being the taxi for me, after they both decided that they want me inpatient so they wouldn't have to do this... So I wouldn't be a burden to them. But yesterday I picked myself back up. In my hotel, all alone after the program. I decided that this is my life. I will go through the motions as long as I have to, but ignore them. Though I don't agree with the program, I only have to be in partial one more week. So I will do what I must to please them, and then I will be free. Because in the end, only I can save myself. And in the end, I will live or die on my own terms, not theirs. 9:15 p.m. - 2004-08-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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