crash&burn.

After I ate my breakfast, half a packet of oatmeal (65), I went back to my room to do schoolwork. I wish I was in real school.

Mom dragged me back out, wanting me to watch this program on drugs. She always thinks I'm on drugs. When I used to have nose bleeds a lot, she asked if I was shooting up. Not likely, considering that I have anxiety attacks over needles.

She looked over at me, half way through the program, and said "Eating disorders are an addiction, too, you know."

I tried not to freeze up. What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, Mom. You know how I'm recovered? Sorry, not.' Or, 'Hey Mom? You know how you said you hate me and then said you didn't? Well, I have a reason for you to hate me again.' Or, even, 'Hey, Mom. I'm a fat, pathetic screw up.' Yeah, those wouldn't work.

So I just nodded, pretending like I was intensely interested in the TV.

"Because throwing up releases endorphins in the brain."

I tensed. She thinks I was fucking bulimic because I threw up after dinner every night, after I was forced. (trust me, when you haven't eaten all day, and then suddenly someone puts a 500 -800 calorie meal in front of you and tells you to eat, and you're panicking; it's force.)

My treatment team filled her head up, saying that me grabbing snacks after school was binging. No, I didn't actually EAT the food I grabbed out of the cupboards.

I nodded, and she didn't say anything else.

I wonder if she knows I've relapsed. Well, since apparently she thinks all I ever did was puke my guts out, there's no way. Because I just restrict now. Once a week, after the disgusting take out or eat outs they want to do after they promised me no more fast food, I purge.

I almost let her take it away from me. The one thing in the entire world that is mine and only mine, ONLY for me. The one thing that no one can touch, no one can see. It's the only thing I control. Kept home and away, it's the only thing that I can make real decisions in. It's not 'You're going to enter this contest' or 'You ARE going to this school and you will do well' or even 'I'm not comfortable with you going to ____'s house, why not go to The Friend's?'.

This is my way...My way of having something that they can't take. That they can't control. I can decide if I want 100 calories, 200 calories, 300 calories, or none at all. I can decide if I want to shove my fingers down my throat.

And no one can stop me.

Even if they put me back in the hospital, this is mine.

I'm never letting it be taken again.

Someone told me that I'm the most beautiful person they know, inside and out.

I almost cried.

I can't handle that. I can't.

Because my inside is black.