Repressed Memories

4/25/17

*trigger warning: eating disorder, mental illness, drugs*

I woke up this morning but I laid in bed for hours
Tossing and turning
Trying to remember but the thoughts were lost
I don't know what I was even thinking about

I clearly don't have a sense of time
All I know is I'm tired and I can't sleep
My body is exhausted but my mind is wired
The dark circles under my eyes can no longer be covered by makeup
Am I a fuckup?
I whisper into the chilly air but there is no response
I'll take that as a yes.
I lay on my back
Staring at the stripes on the ceiling
The morning light gets brighter and the sounds get louder
I pull at my skin, feeling the bones underneath
I'm in a lot of pain.
But I'm not hungry. I can't eat.
Nothing tastes good.
Except cigarettes.
So that's what got me out of bed today.
A damn cigarette.
I pulled on a hoodie and shoved a beanie over my thinning hair.
But my fragile hands could barely flick the lighter.
I need to start eating again.
So I finish the cigarette and root through the cabinets.
My Raisin Bran is stale.
Okay peanut butter and honey sandwich it is then.
But I could barely eat two bites.
Because I didn't spread the peanut butter right.
I could tell there was more than a tablespoon of honey.
Fuck, I can't do this.
So I make coffee.
Heat water
Add grounds to French press.
FUCK I didn't wash it out.
When was the last time I even used it?
Rinse out Frenc-
Damn! The water is going to boil and it'll be too hot!
Turn off stove.
Okay okay
Add grounds to French press.
Steep.
Rinse out coffee mug.
Grab creamer and pour into mug.
And wait for it
Wait for it.
How long has it been?
Press grounds down
Pour coffee into mug.
Yay, coffee. It's a good day already!
Take sip
It's not hot enough.
It's not strong enough.
My stomach drops to my knees which drop to the dirty kitchen floor. It's watered down and there is too much creamer.
I frown, tears of frustration welling up in my tired eyes.
My cat is pushing his head against my elbow
He wants attention
He wants love
He needs food
He needs a clean litter box.
Okay okay I love you Karl let's go
So I rinse his food dish and fill it with clean water and add a scoop of food.
He jumps up and purrs at me, almost smiling.
You're dumb. Cats can't smile. They don't have lips.
Wait do they?
I shake my head and begin scooping his litter box.
Bile rushes to the back of my throat and I gag.
Well at least I don't have much to puke up.
Come to think of it, when was the last time I ate an actual meal?
Probably a few weeks. I don't know. Who cares.
Well obviously not you.
I finish scooping his box and add clean litter.
The smell is still here.
Maybe it's 'cause you haven't taken out the trash in two weeks.
It smells like cat shit and coffee grounds. Like rotten and decaying corpses.
The smell hits you every time you walk in the door.
Yeah I'm a fuck up.
So I gather trash from the bathroom and kitchen and throw it all into a big bag.
There! That was an accomplishment!
But you have to take it outside to the dumpster.
Oh no.
No no
I can't do that!
So I leave.
I grab my keys and pull my shoes on my feet.
I couldn't get out the door fast enough.
It's okay. You can do it tomorrow.
So I buy myself a coffee and stall for a few hours.
But it's weighing on my mind.
There's garbage.
Oh god oh god oh god.

My stomach growls
My hands claw at the noise
I can feel my ribs poking out
And my hips
I think my hips stick out further than my ribs
I smile.
I look good. Right?
Right?!
I rush to the bathroom as my stomach gurgles with each wobbly step.
Hey it's okay. You don't have to eat right now.
I have an idea!
Go home and take out the garbage then you can treat yourself to food!
Okay!
There you go lovely.
So I did. I took out the garbage and whistled a tune as I did so. I washed the dishes and talked to my kitty while he sat on the counter and watched.
Who's there?
Oh no. They can see me.
I can't see them. But they can see me.
Hide.
So I go to the bathroom. I take off my bulky sweater and leggings.
My legs shake as I lift myself to the edge of the tub.
I stand and gaze into the mirror.
I marvel at the sight.
But I'm also terrified.
I'm a skeleton.
A literal skeleton.
I can see every single rib. Even the ones above my boobs
Which have shrunk even more.
Damn, I just bought this bra.
32a
How does that even happen?
I was a C cup about a month ago.
I see a look of sheer terror on my face.
I am a walking corpse.
How much do I weigh now?
I wonder.
I don't have a scale. But I know I weighed 92 pounds about a month ago.
Hm, oh well.
I can buy a scale next week instead of food.
Yeah yeah that's a good idea
I nod my head at my reflection and giggle as I pull my leggings back on.
I walk out of the bathroom and throw the sweater on my couch
I peer into my closet and run my bony fingers along the fabrics
And I find a dress to wear
I pull it on and rush to the mirror.
It's very loose on me
Wow, I really have gotten skinny.
This dress used to be so tight
It almost choked me
He choked me
No no don't think about it
I smile.
It's okay
I'm better now
Yeah I'm better
I reassure myself
Repeating it over and over
Nodding my head vigorously
Until I shake some sense into myself.
I'm really not better.
I'm pretty far from better.