I am sitting in class nursing a massive headache. My stomach feels like razorblades are shredding at the tissue, ripping it from the inside out. Not from hunger, but nausea. My vision is blurring. But I refuse to fail. I already started my day off with a fuckup that had to be quickly corrected. My dad came into the gas station with me this morning (I go every morning for coffee). I got my coffee and was about to go pay for it when he started staring at the donut case. He asked if I wanted one and, like the fatass I am, I said "Sure."
I ate it in the car, chocolate icing and all. Within seconds after that last sweet bite, I felt the guilt set in. I remembered that homecoming is Saturday. I remembered that I'm seeing molly today. I remembered that I didn't deserve to eat.
So when I got to school, I went straight to the bathroom. At 6:20am, it was empty. I forced myself into the stall holding back tears of anger and self hatred. Three fingers and five minutes later, my mistake whirled away to some far away place. Far from my mouth. Far from my stomach. Far from underneath my skin.
I've been listening to "eye sore" by janus lately. It's such a pro ana song. One line in particular I keep repeating to myself to stay strong, my sick mantra:
"Nothing is more important than what people think about you. The worry, the wonder, it's all worth it."
Stay strong, think thin, live ana