Hugs & Blows

Lifetime

Odette was sitting on the couch, watching a made for televison film about a teenage girl with with bulimia. It was almost accurate, a little predictable, and triggering. She watched the girl purging into her porcelain white toilet, with her perfect hair, and perfect skin. Odette knows all too well that that isn't what purging looks like.

Purging looks like blood shot eyes, and running showers to mask the noises. It looked like sweaty faces and hair stained with the various smells of vomit. Brushing your teeth repeatedly for fear of "bulimia breath." At first it looks like esophagus fucking, and abusing ipecac, then it turns to trained puking. Odette was a marvelous puker, she mused to herself.

The film hadn't even mentioned that terrible moment when your laxative kicks in at the exact wrong moment. She was glad she wasn't purging anymore. Almost. She rubbed her stomach mindlessly. She had eaten breakfast today, and found herself wishing she hadn't. She felt a familiar ache, the desire to be empty.

She stilled, all of her muscles were tense. It was as if she was experience flight or fight sensations, but this was more relapse or stay recovering. She stood up with every intention to purge and work out until Ethan came home and found her.

She took a deep breath, inhaling, holding, then exhaling. She sat back down and changed the channel.