I Wouldn't Change A Thing

Nobody asked me if I wanted to bulimic. Truthfully, I did. I think I was born anorexic. I never ate. I never got hungry. Then, the boy I was in love with told his friends I was too skinny. I started forcing food down my throat. It quickly got out of control. I'd never realized how amazing food was. Now, I'm forcing food up my throat.
I have to purge to feel better. When I've eaten too much. When I'm sick. When I'm stressed. It makes me feel like I can do something right. Ms. Haley said this is my way of struggling for control. My mom says it's bad, but I know she's secretly happy, because it means I'm losing weight. I'm becoming the daughter she always told her friends existed.
"Nothing tastes better than being thin," she says. She's obviously never had carbs. I'll binge on powdered donuts, cereal, muffins, anything soft or easy to chew. I can't purge ice cream, though. It tastes the exact same coming out as it does going in. Unfortunately, coming out, it's melted and thick. It makes me feel like I'm about to choke on my vomit. Wouldn't that be an awkward ending?
Every night, I complete my day by binging and purging. I get two or three foods ready. Typically, it's donuts and Cheerios. I set up eight donuts: two rows, four donuts in each. I have two glasses of water at the ready. I pop the first donut in my mouth and wait until the electric buzz shocks my mouth and curls my toes. I chew it quickly and sip the water to break it up quicker. Then, I'm off to the others. The next five are easy. The last two are pushing the limits of my stomach which helps the purging process. As soon as I've finished and had enough water, I use a stop watch to count off thirty seconds. When time is up, I get on my knees as though I'm about to pray. I use the same two fingers I sucked as a child and I stick them to the back of my throat. Within seconds, my stomach clenches, I take a deep breath, and what comes next isn't hard to imagine. I keep going until I taste the bile. I, then, repeat the process with the Cheerios.
In Health, we briefly discussed eating disorders, and everyone talked about how disgusting it was to make yourself vomit. It's not, though. It's no different than drinking or smoking. It's addictive. It helps. It becomes a way of life. I shouldn't be judged for that, but I would be. So I'll keep it to myself. At least, for now.