But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Busted! Oh my God,I am so humiliated. My day has been absolute hell since I got out of school, which, by the way, I hate going to. First off, my mom takes me out to lunch and tells me, "You better not throw this up." I, of course, had the full intention of doing just that. While we were there I noticed I knew the girl, but could tell she didn't recognize me. I said, "You look familiar, aren't you Cara?" and she says, "Yea, I was thinking the same thing." I say, "I'm Gwen." She exclaims, "O my God! You have shrunk!" My mom butts in and says, "Yes, she really has." Geez. Why is that all people care about? All through my meal she comments on how thin I am. My mom makes me eat the Tastee Freeze. I don't care, I'll just throw it up. Then, when we leave, she changes her plan. She decides to drag me to work with her and makes me sit in her classroom while she fills out report cards! Shit! She told me she was going to drop me off at home after lunch and go back to work. There I sat as my food digested. The half of an apple pie, the chili cheese fries, the tastee freeze... What is that, 1400 calories? Then, when we finally got home, it was too late for me to throw up. I went to bed until dinner time, getting a few calls from some friends. I wish to float away, but with as much as I'm eating one day I fear I shall sink into my nightmares. When dinner came it just began another binge. I ate a the chicken and au gratin my mom made, followed by a huge bowl of cereal, cinnamon roll, five oreos, and ice cream. I slowly devoured every bite, lying on the couch, waiting for the feeling in my stomach that would tell me I could easily vomit. I get up, grab my robe and a towel, and head out to the backyard. I am jamming my hands down my throat, yet not enough is coming up. I hear the garage door slam. I stop, startled. No one is coming, so I try again, yet it is useless. I am too nervous. I go inside, and my brother asks, "Where the hell were you?" Thinking quickly, I say, "I went outside for some fresh air because its hot in here." He says, "Dim, do you throw up behind the pool?" I feel the blood rush to my face. "No! Why would you ask that?" He says sort of accusingly, "Because there is barf behind the pool." I look away and start unpacking groceries, thankful for the distraction. I want to sink through the floor, but no can do. If he tells my mom, I don't know what I will do. Now I have to find a new place to throw up. Shit. Maybe I can just quit eating. I feel like I am married to food. Each bite, fearful, adored. I hate it. I love it. Kill me, keep me alive. That is food. 9:51 p.m. - 2003-01-23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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