Anorexia, Grace

Anorexia, Grace - Chapter 1

My eyes fluttered open and I knew it was just another day, just another day. Another day of torment, physical and mental. I tried not to let it hurt me emotionally- but failed, most of the time. I stepped out of bed, groaning. Sometimes I wonder if there's any more to life than this. I get up, barely survive school, go home, do it all again. I have such a fascinating life. The only thing that I can pour my feelings into is my diary, which I try to write in every day. It's almost like a personal log of the cruelty that happens every second of every day.

The first thing you should know is- I suffer from anorexia. I'm underweight, basically. And even though I'm not obese, they treat me just as badly as they would anyone else who isn't their version of perfect. Of course, I try to conceal my skinniness as much as possible. I dress with simple, fairly loose clothes that I hope won't draw attention. I hate myself for it, but there's nothing I can do. I just have this- fear- of food. I'm afraid, and I don't know why.

I strolled over to the wardrobe and picked out some ordinary clothes, for an ordinary day. The thing is, nothing is ordinary about my day- firstly, it's packed with cruelty and hurt. Secondly, when you're like me, how can you ever be normal?

"Grace!" My mother called up the stairs, "Are you out of bed yet?"

"Yeah, mom." I called back.

"Okay, well don't be too long getting ready." She said, and I heard her padding footsteps as she went back to the kitchen downstairs.

Don't be too long? Who is she kidding? I never wear make-up, and it takes me fifteen minutes at the most to get ready.

Another thing I hate about myself: my bones. They jut out at horrible angles, if that makes sense- they just stick out too much. My collarbone looks bony and my arms are so thin they look like you could snap them as easily as you could if they were twigs. That's what my mom always says, too- "Look at you, arms so thin they could snap!". And as much as I hate to admit it- it's true.

"Grace, it's time to leave now." My mother called impatiently. I trudged down the stairs after finishing getting ready, slinging my bag, filled with books to distract me when I would retreat to the girl's bathroom later, over my shoulder.

I followed her out of the front door and hopped into the car, putting my seat-belt on as I set my bag down. My mom got into the driver's seat, and the reassuring hum of the engine was all I needed as I closed my eyes. This could be the only moment of peace I get today.

The seat-belt felt like it was slicing into my neck; so tightly it burned, but I tried my best to ignore it. Maybe it was training for the hurt I'd be feeling today?

"So, Grace." My mother said, "Promise me you'll eat more today. Please."

I opened my eyes and looked at her, "I'll try, mom."

"Good girl." She said, smiling at me.

After a little while we reached the school, and after saying goodbye to my mom, I got out of the car and started the walk into school. It always tired me so much- being so thin and weak, I couldn't manage the pace everyone else could. I entered the school, and as soon as I did heads turned to look at me.

"Eugh, she's so gross and thin!"

"Look at her arms, that's disgusting!"

"Who is she?" Someone asked, "Oh, her? She's Grace Winterson. She has anorexia or something, but I think she just wants attention." The other replied.

"She's worthless; someone needs to tell her to go die."

The words cut me deeper with every remark, every insult they spat at me. They didn't care if I heard them, obviously, because they glared at me as they spoke. I walked the hallways alone, as usual, trying my best not to let the tears fall. They pricked at my eyes, but I fiercely wiped them away before they rolled down my cheek. I moved swiftly to my first class, realizing it was too late to go to my form room. Who cared about form time anyway? It's not like I have any friends there...