My house is a battleground, always a fight. I've made waves in the sea and they're constantly ebbing back, knocking me into the tide. It's a jar of puke found in my room or a can of diet soda I wasn't supposed to have or a dinner I skipped or a mind I lost. "You are fucking disgusting, Arianna! Fucking gross!" and "Why don't you go do something about people that are actually starving?" or "You waste it all by sticking your finger down your throat." or "Instead of eating and throwing up, just don't eat." I'm in trouble, I am trouble, electricity in water. They say doctors, hospitals, medications if I don't 'just stop it', but I can't stop. This seems endless, as far as I can see.
A compliment is hard to navigate. Whenever they come around, I cringe, and my mind flies through the tunnel of a million responses I could have. One will attach itself to my mouth, I don't always know which one, and fling itself at the complimenter. Someone will be saying "You are very skinny." or "Oh my god, Ari, you're skinny!" or saying how they like my waist or my legs or even stop to take a picture of me and I will be there, my mouth in an O shape, wondering what to say. Or someone will compliment my way of speaking or writing or my strength or some other piece of me, and I will be wondering how to get out of it. Get out of the words, the compliment, myself.
Everything I write is so unrelated to other paragraphs, that I can't even sit down to write here anymore. What do I say? blahblah, eating disorder, blahblah. blahblah, cutting, blahblah. fuck my life, parents, friends, me, body, mind, blah blah. Food comes in, goes out, doesn't come in for days, blah blah.
Today, I should feel changed. I cried for hours last night, my dad knows about my eating disorder, my best friend won't see me again for a long time, I'm moving in three weeks. My life is perfect, I am not.
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