The only witness to what happened last night is silent... My secret is safe. No one ever has to know, except you. More out of duty, than want to share. I'm going to tell, because I brought the embarrassment on myself. And if no one knows, the crime may be committed again.
I believe there is a special kind of hell set aside for gluttons, maybe the hell exists only in their minds. Where they are forced to live their days knowing that they are pigs. Begging for change, hoping to one day ascend into a restrictive state of euphoria. Rather than the numbness that comes with a binge.
As long as I can remember, we've been taught in school to 'just say no' be it to drugs, alcohol, sex, whatever. Yet as soon as we leave those bustling halls, and return to our own homes. We are taught to say 'please', and 'thank you'. To ask, and to receive. Please pass the dinner rolls. Thank you for the butter. If we were offered something, and refused to take it. Well, that would be simply unacceptable. We'd receive a harsh talking to. And maybe a swat, a reminder that being polite is more important than being happy, to say yes, is far more important than being comfortable.
On the other side of the page, the media shows us gorgeous models. Who exemplify what is wanted in every male fantasy and represent every female aspiration. Submissive, with 'Yes, of course' written on pouting lips. And 'No, Never!' Written all over the body. We are taught that to refuse pleasure is the most important thing. After all, our parents have taught us that being polite is more important than our own comfort . Yes, we as women, represent pleasure central for men. Always wanting, always, willing. Even if we get nothing in return.
We have all been taught to say no. So how then, is food such a struggle?
Because we were never taught to say no when we wanted. Only when the situation called for, or our teachers and parents decided it was appropriate. Not because we were full. Not because we didn't like it. Not because we didn't want it. We, women. Are just receptacles. But we better attractive ones, or we will end up rejected, huddled outside McDonald's, or the dive bar downtown.
I believe that Anorexia, be it a disease of the mind. Is also a way of finally saying 'No.', 'I won't.', 'I don't have to.', and 'You can't make me.'. Finally a chance to take the control that has been stolen from us since childhood. It is my opinion, that although some of us who develop eating disorders have other triggers, more underlying causes. Every one of us will agree, as will many therapists, and specialists, that eating disorders, Anorexia especially, are a definitive means of control. More-so than any other disorder. Anorexia is gripped by those who notice. I'm sorry, Anorexia, grips those who notice.
Perhaps, if time was taken, to not only teach us how to say no. But to also teach us that 'No', said politely, is always acceptable. Then maybe there wouldn't be this intenal power struggle. Maybe then, there wouldn't be the need to prove to ourselves how little we can live with. To prove to others all we can do without.
I know the witness to yesterdays crime wont tell a soul, so here will be my only source of embarassment. This crime, is not as awful as others I've committed. But for reasons unknown to me, I feel far worse. I spent some time neatly portioning out some leftover pizza, and putting it in the freezer. When suddenly an emotional hunger I'd yet to experience overtook me, and I forced myself to sit down. Only when I no longer wanted, could I allow myself to have. And even then, to indulge once, and break my fast would be a crime in itself.
I sat, staring at the freezer door. It was the only way I could be sure my mind was not tricking me. The only way I could know for absolute positive that I was not at that freezer door. I decided then, that I'd have to wait for the pizza to be completely frozen before I could eat it. Before I could reheat even a tiny bit. So I began my workout, 50 sit-ups, 50 leglifts, repeat. 10 pushups, 40 jumping jacks, repeat. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Then it was time for water before I could eat. Another procrastination tool. Again, ordinary. But instead of going into the kitchen as always, to get a drink of ice cold water from the fridge. I walked to the bathroom to get a drink. Totally out of the ordinary. Halfway through that pitiful glass, I realized what I was doing... Hiding in my own bathroom. From myself! How ridiculous!
So I marched straight into the kitchen and got my water, and since I was there... Right by the freezer, well I should at least check on the pizza. See if it's almost done. I'd only check one piece, the last one I put in. If it was frozen, then I could eat. At that moment, everything got a bit fuzzy. The last piece I put in, hadn't even started to freeze yet... Had it really only been a couple of minutes?
Then I take a bite of it, Just one...
To understand what happens next, you have to be disordered... To fully comprehend the mind numbing sensation associated with a binge...
Minutes later, I'm cornered on my kitchen floor. Food all around me... What have I done? The days worth of work, gone. Poof. Just like that. Somewhere around 800 calories of pizza, crackers, and cream cheese. All stuffed in my now disgustingly protruding stomach.
Only then do I realize what has happened. Only then, do i allow myself to think about it. Regardless of undoing my days work. The thing that really scares me is the loss of control. And it's left me wondering if I'll ever get it back. I cleaned up the mess, and curled up in bed. Leaving my witness behind... Praying I'd wake up and find it be nothing but a nightmare.
As I walked back into the kitchen this morning, a blissful half pound lighter than the night before. I was sure it was just an awful dream. Then, a saddening reminder placed haphazardly on the kitchen counter.
The teddy bear Eli gave me for valentines day, staring mindlessly into the corner I'd been in the night before.
But not to worry. My secret is safe with him.
control: a dangerous thing to lose, when you dance with Ana.