i feel sick. not in a physical way. i just know that my problems are coming to a head.

when i say my problems i speak specifically of my issues with eating. i'm not to the point where i eat nothing, nor have i been for well over a year. but. i hate eating with an absolute ardent fervor usually reserved for religious and political zealots. i hate excretion. i hate the whole act of consuming, digesting, and expelling solid materials.

i start off the morning with coffee, diuretics, and herbal energy pills with ma-huang. sometimes, i also toss laxatives into the mix. after the pills are popped, i chew on gum with an appetite supressant. these are surprisingly helpful. i don't know whether it's the act of chewing without the horrible fullness that follows eating food or the actual ingredients of the gum that seem to satisfy any hunger, no matter how great. during the work day i eat nothing. the evenings after work are what make me contemplate just shooting myself in my fucked-up head. i know i stick myself in this awful cycle of starving during the day until i am consumed at night by a real need to eat. i try to satisfy it with fruit smoothies which usually do a fairly good job of filling me up without any uncomfortable fullness. sometimes though, if there is any food in the house, i feel a driving and uncontrollable urge to eat it all.

this is why i don't keep food in the house. i haven't kept any quantity of food in my house for over a year now.

on a good day i go to the store after work and pick up a sensible meal.

on a bad day i go to the store so hungry that i buy everything in sight (brownie mix and associated ingredients, veggie burgers and buns, chips, grapefruit soda, baguette and cheese). when i go to the store i never go knowing that i'm going to go home and eat it all. i step in the store thinking that today is the day i'll shop like a normal person and be OKAY with the food in the house. almost 100% of the time, the food will be gone my 10pm. eaten and purged.

on an even worse day i don't eat at all. physically and mentally i feel better. if i can make it through one day i can make it through several. i feel stronger for denying myself. i begin to enjoy the light-headedness. i begin to enjoy the hollow, concave feeling. and after a while the hunger goes away.

"poor poor pitiful you," some of you might be saying sarcastically, "get help."

get help?

my mother was under psychiatric care for years. in and out of mental hospitals throughout my teens. they drugged her, locked her in isolation rooms, and ran electricity through her brain in order to try and modify her behaviours. i guess i'm not so optimistic about psychiatric care as my mother was. i don't see how any of these things are possibly helpful. i don't think my problems are like my moms. i don't need electroshock therapy (nor do i think my mother needed it). but even if i just go talk to a professional...

graphic, but this is what i was thinking last night as my head was hanging over the toilet. would i stop if a doctor told me that one more forced vomit would kill me? probably not. i know that it is an untrue statement. then i began to think more on it. perhaps it isn't so untrue when looked at from different angles.

  1. every time i do this, one more small part of my self dies. every time i do it, i cry, whether it's an emotional or biological reaction (or a combination or the two) i don't know. but it doesn't seem to be a positive thing to me mentally or bodily.
  2. every time i do this, i contribute to the death of my body as a whole. this activity is most certainly shortening my life. it has had effects on my teeth, my hair, my skin, my throat, my stomach, and most recently, my excised gallbladder. i feel certain that it has played a large role in the onset of epilepsy in my teens, and it's continued presence in my life ever since. my bones have broken at feather-light touches.
a head shrinker would probably tell me i'm making advances by these thoughts, but i feel compelled to rebel. seeing the logic and truth in the statement "if you do this one more time, you'll die," begins to ring of brainwashing... having my logic adjusted, having my truths altered -- i don't like it one bit. if i can be made to see that everything i believe now isn't quite true, if i can be made to see as true things which right now sound preposterous... well. it sounds like something only a weak mind would fall prey to.

besides. i've talked to shrinks before, and it's all been hoohah. utter crap. "you puke because you want to be pregnant," (told to me at age 17). "people don't treat you differently whether you're fat or thin," (bullshit. i've been both and the difference is so startling and so universal that i lose faith in humans as a whole for their shocking shallowness. the untruth... the absolute BLATANT untruth to this statement and that someone asked me to accept it as true appalls me. do i look stupid?). it seems like so many people, in an attempt to offer comfort and help to someone like me, are simply LYING about how the world works in an attempt to correct the problems.

so i feel stuck. i'm at a point where i feel pretty well consumed by a constant feeling of hate. it's like there's a voice in my head constantly screaming. it's like a whistle blown really loud -- high pitched and warbling. sometimes the screams are words. BARF!!! DIE!!! it's like an 8-year old girl screaming words just to see how loud she can do it and for how long.

i am angry because there are a lot of people in the world who, given what i have expressed, would offer me encouragement today but tomorrow will share fat jokes with their friends.

i felt compelled to write out my little tirade upon seeing the phrase "the rotten stench of bulimia" in a writeup in The Bad Roommate Node. interestingly there is a softlink directly above where i type this write-up: Smells of Everythingians. how apropos. the smell of this everythingian is the rotten stench of bulimia.

just eat normally

what's normal? i have no idea anymore. though illogical, a salad feels like a huge meal and leaves me bloated.

just stop puking

just stop biting your nails. just stop smoking. just stop injecting yourself with heroin. just stop cursing. just stop doing anything and everything detrimental to you. cold turkey. it's not that easy.

just don't worry about what other people think

you are not so much who you are as who you are percieved to be by your peers. hitler probably thought he was a pretty good and noble person. does that matter considering that the rest of the world considers him to be an almost unequaled evil?