𝟗 | 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

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𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀




Getting ready for bed in his home was soothing.

I finished doing my usual evening stretches and yoga which had led to me taking a lengthy, bath with dried flowers and Epsom salts to heal my sore body. The dancing had drained me which required some intense relaxing. Nothing felt better than doing a full body night time routine and being comfy with no bra on.

I was circling around the bathroom wearing a cherry printed pyjama set with an eye mask on my head. Thankfully, Iris had arranged for all my stuff to be brought over.

It occurred to me that I had eaten too much. Or at least I thought I did.

I knew it wouldn't happen, but my mind slipped to the possibility that I could wake up the next day overweight, unable to walk with my body swelled with fat from all I had eaten. I imagined myself triple my size, heaving to breathe with a face of a pig, triple chinned and obese. I felt fat, I felt ugly. In the mirror, I found myself checking my face to reassure myself that my worries were ridiculous and completely unrealistic.

My mother's words were beginning to run through my mind. I could practically feel the whips on my stomach, the ones she gave me whenever I ate too much.

Feeling tense, I continued to stare at the toilet and almost gagged at the thought of shoving my fingers down my throat again. Swallowing roughly, I struggled to control my breath and placed my hand on my chest, feeling immense pressure to get onto my knees and barf. I was holding myself back, restraining from emptying the contents of my stomach.

I had definitely eaten too much. I would get scolded, it would all go wrong, I could relapse to binge eating and gain weight, lose my career and followers. I was panicking over nothing, I knew and yet the fears kept tormenting me if I didn't do something about this bloated, fat feeling. My stomach was going to expand and explode, I shouldn't have ate that much. I should have rejected his plate and stuck with the salad.

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