I can remember the exact moment I decided to become anorexic. Yes—it was a decision; there was no gradual, mindless descent into an uncharted abyss. I stood before the trash-can in my college dorm-room, tossed an entire saucepan worth of tasteless, over-cooked noodles into it, and said aloud: “F*ck food. I am doing this.” Then I threw away all my other food too, and took out the trash so my roommate wouldn’t know what I’d done.
For the next two weeks, I subsisted on two grape-sodas per day plus whatever free beer the nearby bars funneled down my under-age throat. I slept four or five hours per night, attended all my classes, aced all my tests (as always), and acted like everything was normal. I told no one what I was doing. I knew people would find out eventually, but I wanted to be too far gone by the time anyone noticed.
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3 Comments
You are an amazingly talented writer. I am a mother of two boys (ten months apart in age) and your posts are wonderfully refreshing and releasable. The first time I found your writing was on Hot Mess Mom (also hilarious!!) and I loved it so much that I went to the beginning and read through them ALL over the course of the next 24 hours. No one is perfect and it is nice to find out that I am not alone. Thank you.
Wow. That is an amazing compliment. Thank you so so much for taking the time to say such sweet things. So glad you’re here! xoxo
Relatable (releasable WTF!? LOL)