i popped ritalin again last night. even though last time after i got so dehydrated i swore i never would. 2 pills down the hatch after puking my guts out into a walmart bag. i laid in bed studying biology with my jaw clenched, teeth grinding. i couldn't focus on anything. all i could think the whole time i was in this horrid high was, "at least this will help me lose." ritalin is a stimulant, same drug family as caffeine. stimulant --> energy --> burning calories --> losing weight.
i woke up this morning two pounds lighter than yesterday, that familiar dizziness and headache welcomed back home by my growling stomach. coffee, some carrots, and a single bite of dinner is all i've had so far for the day. if i'm hungry at home, i'm allowed only lettuce. i keep telling myself, just one more day. just one more day, nikki.
but as i walked with pride in the feeling of my schoolbooks resting my struggling-to-surface hipbones, i asked myself: is 2lbs worth it? worth risking addiction? worth not being able to finally, desperately drift into sleep at 2 am? worth a high i don't even enjoy? i don't know why i even took the pills from the medicine cabinet in the first place. i don't know why i decided to swallow them. if i'm doing drugs that i know i don't like, what does that say about me? i can't do this again...
i told myself a long time ago that cigarrettes, weed and booze was the limit. pills are past that limit. ana drug me over that line. the worst part is, i took her hand and followed without protest.
i love you, ana. i gave my life to you. but i am an ana, not a pill-popper.
stay strong, think thin, live ana