“You are lovely” they said “Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy”
Why did my stomach roll? Why did my chin wobble? Where did the bulges come from?
I escaped into loose shirts.
A collage of super models, diets and exercises decorated my walls
The models frowned as I wolfed down a chocolate bar
“One last time” I promised them every time amidst desperate tears
Shadows darkened the dungeons of my head, and I stole glances at the bowl.
It beckoned slyly, “It only takes two fingers”
I didn’t feel my fingers ramming down my throat. I didn’t taste the bile.
But I was aware of the dark satisfaction of my emptied bowels
I was enslaved!
Cravings for cheese, butter and chocolates made way for the gratifying taboo.
Dry tears were shed every night with umpteen promises to stop.
All vapour. All flushed. With two fingers.
My breasts sagged and my love handles disappeared.
I dropped sizes.
Now they say, “What happened? You look ill. You look pale”
The mirror laughed “A slimy green is their jealousy; can’t bear to see you slender”
It pointed out the various bulges and imperfections around my lower body.
It was a waking nightmare. A dark, endless tunnel threatening to collapse on me.
Eyes shrouded with a black film, tongue burned like charcoal…
I didn’t know I was dying. I didn’t know I needed help.
All I knew was that I was fitting into the size two dress.
A blackout, a hospital gown and years of exorcising the demons… I breathe free!
Written for mindlovemisery’s menagerie
When looking beautiful comes at a price.