Elsa Dawn >> D7 DONE!!

I couldn’t remember the last time when I didn’t have the urge to throw up. I know foods important but it just doesn’t stay down or I find myself kneeling in front of a toilet shoving fingers down my throat. It’s not a pleasant feeling. The burn in my throat as the bile comes up and how my stomach feels like a bubbling soda. Most people say I have a problem, they say I have a disorder called bulimia; I just think food doesn’t agree with me. I swear I don’t mean to throw up… it just happens. I remember looking into the mirror each time I’ve chucked up my food and I see this fragile girl who’s thin and has red watery eyes and has stark white face and prominent jaw and cheek bones. I never imagined myself to be so weak and pathetic. I hated myself so much that I did this and ruined my life, ruined who I am. I don’t know how I should feel about myself, horrified about the prospect that I have a disorder or happy that I’m thin and pretty like all the rest of the girls in the district.

I remember the first time I ever threw up. I stood in a bathroom in front a mirror and I studied my reflection with a look full of scrutiny. My eyes travelled from my face that was slightly round, I had thick luscious brown hair that fell down to the middle of my back and pale blue eyes which were full of judgment and hate. My gaze moved down and down until it was looking at my stomach. I pulled my shirt up and all I saw was fat and I loathed myself for it. It was all my fault that I had this fat and I look hideous. I could feel the sting of tears as I study myself and that fat that just sat there ruining my figure, ruining my life. I remember starting to shake and I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself down and then I turned around and looked at the toilet that sat in the corner. I kneeled before it and the cold tiles seeped into me sucking away any warmth that I had and I started to tremble uncontrollably. I quickly pulled my hair into a ponytail and leaned over the toilet bowl. Without a second thought I shoved two fingers into my mouth reaching for the back of my throat and I remember making these weird strangled noises. I felt the bile start to rise to and the burning sensation it brought spread through my whole body. I could taste the bitterness of the vomit and withdrew my fingers as it all came out. The air was full of unpleasantness and I cringed away from the ball as I felt like my whole body was on fire. My stomach felt weak and sore and I could feel the cold tiles against my cheek when I collapsed to the floor. I continued to lay there as shock coursed through me and I felt the tears roll down my checks of disappointment and despair.

I kept my problem as a secret for many months and after each meal I would eat the food my parents gave me and discretely head to the bathroom after I finished eating. After a few months of this routine I could see the weight dropping off of me and I would smile at myself in the mirror happy with the thought. But I could tell that my parents were starting to get suspicious. I kept this up for a few more months and then one day I decided to look at my stomach in the mirror. I never looked at since that fatal day I started throwing up. I cautiously pulled my shirt up and looked into the mirror. My stomach was pale and I could see the slight outline of my ribs. I didn’t know how I should feel about that, happy that I was thin or sad that I looked sick and ghostly. My cheeks looked hollow and I had dark rings under my eyes from staying up during the nights as my stomach clenched in pain. I look pale and fragile. I could see a sad smile twist my lips and the confusion was clear in my eyes. I always believed that if I did this I would look beautiful and guys would be lining up to date me, but I didn’t. I looked sick and disgusting.

As days progressed I felt this burning need to tell my parents about what I have been doing but every time I was about to say it I had an image of their faces in my mind that was full of disappointment and anger. I couldn’t let them know otherwise they would hate me; I continued to say it in my head for the need to reassure myself. I always felt a sort of indecision burning inside me every time I looked at their warm kind faces but I always made up an excuse not to tell them. I felt ashamed and annoyed that I could not face the fact that I need help because I had a disorder, a fucking disorder! When did I turn into that girl who needs to be perfect and beautiful? When did that burning sensation and desire arise to prove that I was more than an invisible person or so I would have heads turning in my direction? Well I guess that last wish was granted. I had all heads turned in my direction as I trudge down the street as I was sickly and a disgrace. Even during hot days I was shivering and I couldn’t stop it. People saw me as this fragile little girl who was sick and a bad role model and who never be loved or cared about by anyone. I guess I was starting to think they were right. I wasn’t someone a person could care about. As the old saying goes you have to learn to love yourself before anyone could love you back. I guess I would never be loved because I despised myself and the choices I made. I couldn’t change them even though I was desperate to go back in time and lose weight the hard way. Would I ever stop hating myself and would it be possible to change my life by choosing a different path? Would a new path arise before me so I could fix my mistakes? I doubted it.

I started to realize that maybe I could sort myself out by just stopping the throwing up of my food and I had this strength in me to help myself. If could help me then who could. I sat at the dinner table with food on the plate in front of me and I grabbed my fork. I slowly at the food on my plate and when I finished I then walked down the hall to my room to go to bed. That night I lay in bed with a small smile on my face because I had managed it. I didn’t go into the bathroom and through up my dinner. A closed my eyes with a small sigh of relief but as minutes ticked by I started to feel and bit nauseous and my stomach felt weird. It felt like I would feel the food swirling around inside of me, it was weird sensation. I gripped my stomach and gritted my teeth. “I will not through up” I told myself quietly in the dark room. I will keep it down. I continued to lay there and I could feel that I was about to regurgitate all my food. I swallowed and tried to take deep breaths but the feeling wouldn’t go away. I scrambled out of bed and slammed the bathroom door closed behind me. All that work and effort came spilling out and the usual taste of vomit filled my mouth and the bitterness stung my nose. I curled up into a ball on the floor and I screamed in frustration. I heard my voice ring out around me and a buzzing noise filled my ears with my head spinning. My body arched in a painful sob and the tears cam spilling out. I dug my fingers into the tiles and gritted my teeth. The tears splashed onto the floor below me standing out against the dirty floor. I was weak, I was pathetic and stupid. I heard a small knock at the door and I didn’t reply but I could hear my mother’s voiced calling out to me and asking me if I as alright but I didn’t reply. I just laid down on the ground sobbing. I heard the door creak open and my mother came running in. A look of concern filled her face and she held me as I cried.

I remembered that night when my parents found out and I had told them everything. They didn’t judge me and they just had a look of compassion and concern plastered to their face. Those looks and concerned faces they gave me made me cry even harder and I felt disappointed in myself. It wasn’t like the other disappointment I had felt. It was disappointed about how I could do such a thing to myself, how I hid this from people who loved me and was concerned for me and disappointed at how weak I was. I remember sitting in a chair in front of them with my thin slim fingers curled into fists gripping my pants and trembled slightly. They told me that they would help me get through this and I felt this fist that was clenched around my heart loosen. I guess that was one of the main things I was scared about. I was scared my mum and dad would abandon me and I just didn’t realize how worried I was about that. I gave them a grateful look and I told them thank you and that I loved them so much. I recall that my parents told me I should have told them earlier and I said I was scared and that they would hate me. But my mum said to me in a kind voice that she could never hate me and that I was their daughter whom they loved so much. I guess I did feel relieved after I told them everything. It made me realize how stupid I was and the ignorance I had about what my parents would do and think. I knew from that moment on that my parents would help no matter what challenge I was facing and they were here for me, ready and willing.

I believe that was the incident I regret most about my life. It has been a few years since that incident but I can recall so much about it and in some much detail. I had never felt so frustrated and angry at myself. As I said my parents have helped me through that rough patch in my and I guess I am almost like any other teenage girl. Sometimes I still do have the urge to vomit after I have eaten m food but I try to swallow it back and keep it down. I now don’t look so fragile and sick and I have a healthy glow about myself. I have a thin figure but my ribs don’t show and I look lean and not weak. I feel more confident about myself but whenever I think about that incident I feel this inkling of darkness that threatens to take hold and swallow me until I can’t see any light in my life. I try to hide that darkness because it scares me. I’m afraid of it because it seems so overwhelming and I’m terrified that if I do let it spread that I will drown. So I try to shove into the back of my mind and focus on the good and positives things about my life.

Code word: Odair