But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fighting to be Well I really want to be better, I do. But it is so difficult. I imagine myself as being thinner, sitting with a cold coffee, studying in the cafeteria in college. And I am happy. But being thinner doesn't make you happy... I make sure that I have all my calories in at every meal. That I am not over, or more that fifty under. I check my blood sugars four times a day, and take my insulin as prescribed. The six injections. I take all of my medications for all the medical problems this eating disorder has caused me, or I have caused myself through being disordered. Yet I still obsess. I want to think it will end, but I don't know if it ever will. One slice of white bread, 80 calories, two slices of turkey, 60 calories, one fat free yogurt, 90 calories, one granola bar, 120 calories... Make sure not to go over, make sure not to be under, make sure to get your exchanges in, to get your insulin right, to take your shot... And I wait for the five hours, so I can eat the next meal. Because really what I want to do is eat the whole box of cookies, a liter a chocolate milk, the pizza that everyone else is eating but I can't... Because if I eat one slice I will feel horrible. And I will jam my fingers down my throat after drinking a liter of soda, puke over the toilet bowl, drink more soda, puke again, drink more soda, puke again, until all I can taste is bile. I have to stop bingeing and purging. I have to stop because I want to keep doing it. I want to do nothing else. But I know what will happen. I won't be able to stop when I want to. And I will be sent back to my old town. Back to the memories, and they will once again become a reality. And I won't survive that reality again. I am also scared of what I am doing to myself. My heart is acting up again. None of my EKGs are coming back normal, and they change in severity each time one is done. I also am running too high of a pulse, according to the doctors. And all I want, more than anything, is to be a doctor. To be able to help others. To not have an eating disorder. To work in pediatrics, and help save lives, or make them better. I am slowly making it. And someday, this will all be a distant memory, just like everything else. And in the end, it will all be for the better. 10:21 p.m. - 2004-08-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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