I killed her two months ago on a sunny summer afternoon. The sunshine was at its peak, as I looked down at her and she stared up towards me. All the memories we had shared, the things we had done flashed through my mind. I remember every single moment spent with her, maybe she loved me or maybe she didn’t. That doesn’t really matter now because I had no choice but to simply kill her. I would admit killing her wasn’t easy, as the emotions of sadness and fear run through my body. Truth be told when it was all set and done I felt like I had been released.
I felt like my own body was consuming itself and all the energy I had left, for a chance of survival. I’m living, but at the same time I’m dying. Every morning starts off the same way, with the same questions,
-What am I going to eat ?
-How will I survive?
She entered my world with ease and she would be with me all the time, not a moment did I ever feel lonely. She was my love, my friend, at times my enemy, but more importantly she kept me alive.
I felt like I was drowning in a deep black hole, slowly but surely getting consumed by the darkness. Watching the light at the top fade as it got smaller and smaller to only eventually close up.
I could spend my last little bit of money on a selection of snacks and sweets, and know that I could consume all I bought, not worrying about any bad calories affecting my body. I felt like I was living to eat rather than eating to live.
The worst began to start when I couldn’t force myself to vomit anymore and this seemed to put me in an awful mood. Several months had gone by, but still my stomach refused to cooperate with me no matter how I hard I tried to make myself vomit.
No one noticed the bruises on my body, not that I needed anyone to do so. I forever had her by my side, and she didn’t seem like she was leaving any time soon.
My academics took a hit. I began to fail most of college assignments and exams, my performance at work was poor but yet all this didn’t really matter to me. To me achieving success or a win was being able to throw up in a toilet. I spent countless hours in front of mirror worrying about my body image.
My body began to develop blood clots and this is when it all hit me more. It seemed every touch on my body was sore. When questioned by family and people who apparently cared about me, why my skin was so pale and why had bruises. I would simply tell a lie no matter how unbelievable it may have sounded.
My weight remained exactly the same, 53.4 kilos. Every time I stood in front of the mirror the person staring back terrified me. I began to blame myself for it and everyone I knew. I was too ashamed to talk to anyone about my problems. Every time I tried to hug my boyfriend I felt as if he was touching an abundance of fat on me. When we kissed he would probably feel my double chin shaking. I couldn’t bare the thought of it and therefore I decided to break up with him. He was probably the only person who genuinely loved me for me, regardless of what I looked like but yet I cast him away from my life.
I felt like I didn’t exist anymore, alive on the outside but very much dead on the inside. Time passed and I didn’t realise that it was summer all over again. Looking into the mirror became harder, it only made me miserable and I was no longer happy at all. At my youthful age one would think I was meant to feel young, beautiful and vibrant but I was the complete opposite old, ugly and depressed. It may have seemed like I was alone in this cold wretched world, but I was not. I had the unfortunate pleasure of being in company of a person, who was very much present in my life on a daily basis. Her name is Bulimia. The person responsible for bullying and pushing me into this black hole of despair and regret.
The voice of reason was within me. She called out for help and I heard her screams, yet I choose to ignore her and let her die...
Author Notes: EATING DISORDER IS YOUR ENEMY , DONT LET IT DESTROY YOUR LIFE. Dont die while you are alive, call for help : 03000 11 12 13