Dear Elle

Sometimes I get ashamed.
No one really knows what it's like. Here, let me describe it to you.
Why yes, i'm one of those freaky chicks who likes to shove her finger down her throat to cope with the unforgiving place this world calls "life."
How do I do this you may ask?
I'll tell you how.
Because while I am locked behind the bathroom door with my finger down my throat and my body leaning on the toilet I can hear the muffled screams of my family from behind the wall.
So this is what I do.
It's my dirty little secret.
What makes it so sick, is how good it feels.
They tell you about how it makes you skinny, they never warn you about how addicting it is.
The truth is, I will fall out over the toilet like a rag doll and shove my finger, a toothbrsuh, whatever the hell I can find down my throat. Again and again i push it down. It hurts so much! My body always fights to hang onto the one thing i don't want it to have. Theres a pressure that builds up behind my skull. Like a weight thats resting on my face. My skin burns and itches. The blood rushes to my head. The muscles in my neck hurt. My stomach is being punched by an invisible force. But it feels good!
How sick does that make me sound? That I LOVE the way it feels when my body is dying, fighting, hanging on a string.
What can I say, i'm a sick human being.
When i'm done I flush the toilet.
They never tell you in the magazine how gross throwing up your food is.
Like, that the vomit gets EVERYWHERE!
By the time you're done, it's down your chin, it's all up and down the arm you used as the weapon against food. It's in your hair if you don't hold it back right. It's all over the toilet bowl.
It's rather disgusting when you think about it.
But really, in that precise moment, you aren't thinking about that. All that you're doing is leaning your dead weight against the cold wall and holding yourself, rocking yourself back and forth and crying into your jeans. You know that you need help. But who will help you? Do you hear the angry muffled screams behind that wall, thats supposed to be your support system in this battle? They're not there. All you can think about is who would you dare burden with this dark secret?
You get up and look at your reflection. Broken.
Your face is red from the pressure, your eyes are bloodshot. You're sweaty. The veins in your neck are popping out, bright blue againt your reddened skin. Your neck is swollen. Your mascera is running down your face, your hair is a mess. They never tell you this in the magazines either.
And in that moment, looking at yourself in the mirror, is the first time you realize how pathetic you've aloud yourself to become. And then you bury your face in your hands and you scream "you're such a coward!" Because that's what you are. A coward, who hides behind an eating disorder and a scale instead of facing her problems.
The truth is, it's the only way I know how to tell people that i'm angry with them. That i'm sad. That i'm reaching my hand out for someone to grab it, but it remains untouched. Attached, is a thin frail girl, who is drowning. The world standing at the edge of the boat watching.
But i don't want this.
Not for one more day.
I'm tired of being empty, of being hungry. I miss being strong and tough. I miss not needing anyone to lean on but myself. I don't want to be sick anymore. And I will not waste one more day of my life with it.
And thats when you look in the mirror and smile.
Because you know that you've just freed yourself.
You know that you will be okay.
So don't give up hope now.
You don't want to be hungry and always smell like vomit forever do you?
No.
Thats when you know that you're stronger then you've ever given yourself credit for.
And then you go downstairs and get a bowl of cereal from the pantry, you intend to keep it down this time. And you eat it slowly, this is the first time in a long time that your mind has aloud you to eat. Food tastes good, you're so hungry!
And then you find your family.
They're still screaming at eachother.
But you walk into the room smiling.
Why?
Because you realize that they're doing the best that they can right now. They love you with all their hearts, but they're only human and they can't be perfect.
Then you walk around the room and hug every person, embracing their warmth. You hold them each for a while. They don't know what you do, they don't know that you just realized that you love them, that you just freed yourself from a death sentence, they don't know that for the first time since the day you were diagnosed with anorexia 5 years ago you feel happy. But it works, because the screaming stops. And they hug you back.
Everything will be okay, it will always be okay.