I walked through the kitchen opening cupboards and the fridge. "Stop it." I told myself But I can't stop. It's never enough. The need for more overcomes my conscience. I grab a couple cookies and stick some leftovers in the microwave. While I wait I eat the cookies and look for more food. This always happens while I'm home alone, I binge. The microwave dings and I rush to get the hot food and eat it quickly loving the feeling of it burning the top of my mouth. I clean up the mess I made and run upstairs to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet I stick my two fingers in my mouth and out comes the vomit, the cookies, the leftovers, and everything else I ate. I love the feel of the cool porcelain on my forehead as I brace myself. Cleaning up again I turn on the shower as I strip looking at myself in the mirror. I hate what looks back. People say I'm skinny, but I see the fat that they don't. Sure I can count my ribs but my stomach is flabby. After my shower it's about ten o'clock so I search the bottom cabinet for some vodka and pills to lull me to sleep. I fill a glass about halfway and down the pills with it. Feeling a bit drowsy I go to my room lay down and as I try to fall asleep memories, fuzzy at the edges, creep into my mind. I close my eyes and force them away. I let myself fall into a drug and alcohol induced dreamless sleep.
