Sight Is The Worst Sense.

I wake up every morning with the first thoughts in my mind being, please don't eat today. But I want oats. No, you had too much yesterday, leave the house on an empty stomach. But breakfast is supposed to speed up your metabolism or something, so isn't it technically good? No, no it isn't. You're just trying to make yourself fat and bloated and ugly, aren't you? Is that what you want? If you want to speed up your metabolism make green tea.

This argument continues all the way though my shower. I pinch the fat around my ribs and the blobs on my arms and punching the things I find ridiculously fat like my stomach and thighs. And then when I get out, I dread the closet. As I stand there I feel disgusting and just go with whatever is baggiest on me so I can feel a little less fat. I'll wear my nicer clothes on a different day. On a non-fat day. I'll wear tight clothes then.

When I finally get out of the house, it is a victory if I leave without eating, but it's a fail and I'm depressed for the rest of the day if I've eaten breakfast. So feeling slightly accomplished and relieved, I walk the routine walk to the bus stop to take the city bus to my school. I watched my shadow walk today because it was sunny for once. Even that looked fat. But I cheered myself up with the fact that I only had to wear one hoodie today since it was 73 degrees outside.

Once that bus gets to the transit center, I transfer to the bus that heads up to my school and sit on the right side so that I can scout the area for girls who are thin so that I can feel even worse about myself and motivated to not eat anything. A lot of people get on this bus and it makes me anxious, so I try to find positions to sit in so that my legs don't look spread out fat on the seat, or big and flabby if I put them up on the little railing. I always wonder how I look from the side, and I feel like everybody is looking at me and thinking about how disgusting I look. I must stuff my face all day.

When the bus begins to leave the downtown transit center and head up to the college, we pass by boutiques with thin models in the windows, bars that aren't open, and the cafes. The cafes are the worst, especially on nice days. The normal women sit outside in the sun at a table and shovel whatever fattening dish they've ordered passed their waxy, Revlon lips that are bleeding mushy dried saliva into the corners of their mouths hanging agape. They finally chomp down and suck the contents off the utensils, leaving their lipstick behind and repeat.

This is enough to make me lose my appetite completely. I can't eat like they do. I have to pick my food apart into tiny pieces so that I don't need to open my mouth up wide and display the contents of the tiny-fat-makers I'm putting in my face and my dangling uvula for everyone around me to be disgusted by. Even when I'm alone I can't stand it. I can't put my lips on a utensil, I use my teeth and lick what's left off the spoon. This is probably just as disgusting, if not, worse than how normal people eat. So I don't let anybody see me eat.

When I get to school, I'm no longer thinking about food any longer. I'm trying not to let people notice that I'm feeling inferior to all the thin girls around me. They must be thinking that my legs look huge, bulbous at the top and gigantic calves. My reflection in the windows over there looks repulsive. My shadow is enormous.

I get in the building and refuse to use the elevator to get to the top floor where my first class of the day is. Partly because I fear getting stuck in elevators, but mainly because I want to burn the calories going up the stairs. Every morning I reach the top and stand outside of the door gasping for breath, heart pounding, and hoping like hell that nobody will come out of that door or up the last staircase I just ascended and see me. After catching my breath and feeling faint, I worry about whether my breath stinks or not and pop three mints at five calories for the day into my mouth and immediately feel regret. So much for making today a fasting day I guess.

In my second class it's just a lecture class. A big, big lecture hall and if I don't get a seat in the very back at the very top I feel self conscious the entire hour. I must look like that girl sitting in front of me with her back fat hanging over her too-tight bra. Why can't I look like that girl on my left in the black hoodie who has thin stick arms and a small frame. My stomach is hanging over my jeans I need to hide it with my hoodie. But if I take my hoodie off people will see my fat jiggling arms and I'll get cold in here. Just cover it with my arms. Everybody is staring at my fat. Cross my legs so they don't spread out huge on the seat. I miss everything the teacher said that hour.

After my two classes are over I dread going home because I have to be around the food. If it's the day I have my third class, I may or may no get a latte depending. When I do get a latte, it has to be made with rice milk and Splenda because I can't stand thinking about the huge amount of fat in that cow secretion they call milk. That's 260 calores and the only thing I have had so its okay I guess. The caffeine makes me shake all through my two-and-a-half hour long math class.

When I finally go home, glaring at my fat, fat shadow on the ground laughing at me, my boyfriend makes me things to eat and I feel too guilty to deny them. But I feel guilty during and after eating them as well. So it's a lose/lose situation.

I go to bed every night feeling like a failure and wake up bloated and guilty and depressed to start it all over again.
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May 8, 2012