The Grip of Eating Disorders

Bulimia Nervosa

I park in my favorite abandoned area, away from everyone, away from humanity, in the darkness on a late night. Where no one can see my shame.

I reach into the backseat and grab the first thing in reach

Honey buns.

I quickly open the box and begin to indulge.

My backseat is filled with binge foods. Half shop lifted, half bought.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to the grocery store to buy healthy foods to fill my fridge with turned into the mess

I switched from the honey buns to the powered donuts. Not even chewing my food fully, just trying to get it in there as much as fast as possible.

My mind is clouded, I'm not thinking straight. My thoughts are all over the place.

STOP!

EAT MORE!

STOP RIGHT NOW!

FASTER!

THIS ISN'T GOOD FOR YOU!

FAT PIG YOU HAVE TO STARVE!

FASTER!! SO YOU CAN PURGE!

STOP! STOP! STOP!

From the donuts to the chips, the chips to the crackers, chugging diet soda in between.

The binge food is gone. My stomach is full, it hurts, so much.

I step outside, I heave and vomit in a bush. I don't have to try anymore. 13 years of this bullshit made it far too easy.

I vomit all the contents in my stomach and I'm ready to go again.

To pizza hut, to burger king, to 7/11, to tutti frutti.

Once again binging, stuffing food in my mouth, washing it down.

Cheetos, pizza, ice cream, cookies, burgers, fries.

The list goes on.

I step out, purge in the bush.

Again.

Carl's Jr., Walmart, In-n-Out, Starbucks, Taco Bell.

Burgers, tacos, candy, cookies, lollipops, chilli fries, ice cream.

I'm done, my jaw hurts.

I head over to my bush and I empty my stomach of all the contents.

I slowly sit in my car, and take a look in my mirror.

My face is swollen, my eyes are red, mucus is threatening to drip from my nose and I sniffle.

After that high, all that's left is regret, shame, humiliation, and sadness.

Why did I do that? Why didn't I do this? Why couldn't I have stopped here?

The negative, self-loathing thoughts flood in, no longer clouded by the binge urges.

FAT. COW. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU. FUCKING BITCH.

I make my way home, and get in bed. One week free of b/p tossed away.

I have hope for the next day, but it's the same.

It's that same cycle again that no one has any idea will end.