Skinny or Die

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is the first time I'm opening up about this so don't be judgmental and please be kind.

You may be able to tell from the subjects of most of my writing, but I'm not your average happy-go-lucky normal 18 year old girl. In fact, I'm the exact opposite. When I was 14 I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and depression. It's been really hard to deal with. It still is. I have a handle on it most of the time now, if I stay on my meds. Still, I have my ups and downs. I've thought about ending it, honestly. I feel like such a burden, an insignificant spec on my family's name. But I value all life as being a gift from God, and I can't bring myself to, in essence, refuse that gift. 
 

But now, I'm in even more trouble. My dad told me that I should lose weight. He said he didn't want to see me become fat. He said I needed to lose a few pounds so I could find a man to marry someday. Having a pants size of 8, I never thought of myself as fat before, but now, that's all I think or care about it seems. In order to be desirable to a man, I need to be beautiful. That means being skinny. So I've started cutting back my meals. Some days I don't eat at all, most days I allow myself to eat one meal. Recently I've started taking laxatives. Two a day usually, but I've thought about pushing it up to 4. I know its wrong. Its unhealthy and I should stop. But I want to be skinny and I know this will get me to my goal weight quickly. I've promised myself that I won't become addicted to laxatives, and that I'll only use them until I reach my goal weight of 115lbs.
Hopefully it won't take long, because its killing me to think of what I'm putting my body through. But I can't help it. I feel like this is the only way.

Last week, after going all day with nothing, my brother ordered himself a pizza. I snapped and started shoving a slice in my mouth. I was so embarrassed by what I was doing I locked myself in my room while I ate. Like eating was a crime. I had eaten half the pizza when my dad knocked on my door asking if I wanted to watch the hockey game with them. I told him I'd be out in a minute and immediately spit the half masticated pizza that was in my mouth into the garbage, along with the rest of the slice. I felt so guilty for taking those few bites of pizza that, even though I'd already taken one, I ran and took two more laxatives.

If you've read my piece, "Talking to the Mirror pt. 2" you'll notice some similarities between my pizza story and Harley's lasagna escapade. That's because I've taken my own feelings, thoughts, and anxieties and put them into Harley. Her story is a little different, but a lot of what you read about her is true of me. I put a lot of myself into my characters, that's why they mean so much to me. 

I guess that's all I have to ramble on about for now. But don't worry, I'm gonna be just fine. And you'll hear from me again real soon. 

Thanks for reading,
~Ani Leigh

 


Submitted: December 17, 2014

© Copyright 2021 Ani Leigh . All rights reserved.

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