I Don't Even Recognize My Life Anymore

I'm 'home' for the summer.... "Home" What the hell is home anyway? This 'home' the one I call the 'death trap' the 'crap shack' the 'house of a hoarder'.... this is the place that makes me so angry I would rather go running in the thunder storm then sit at a table with my family and eat food. Yeah I'm pretty messed up... but when I'm here the 'eating disorder' or whatever it is takes over.... At my other home, the one that feels like home, the place with the family that feels like family.... the place where my heart is... when I'm there I eat because I don't want to let them down... but I hate it because I don't want to eat, I want to be thin. But here.... what ever this place is, home, not home, whatever it is I don't feel bad for not eating.... I feel empowered. Strong. And that is the one and only reason I would stay here for four months. I know it's messed up the way a crook knows what he is doing is wrong.... I just don't see how it's not the right thing for me to do... this is what I do. I come here and I lose weight fast.... it's like robbing a bank, or stealing a car. I'm a hit man, and fat is my target. I have to take out fat, and fast because the mob boss.... the world will take me out if I don't take out fat.

Is this even real? Is this even me? I guess it is now...

The Mirror

I stand in my room facing the mirror,

Pulling at fat from head to toe.

I need some control over this life I'm living.

I need someone to understand what I need.

Tear drops start to fall....

Sometimes I can't believe the things that have happened. Sometimes I wish I could go back to my childhood and change the parts that went wrong.

Why couldn't it all have been different. Better. Easy. This can't be my life... surly I will wake up from this bad dream.

I planed my life. I'm supposed to be thin, happy. I'm supposed to have graduated from college and I'm supposed to have a job... saving money... moving to New York... living my dream.

My dad wasn't supposed to have an affair. My mom wasn't supposed to be a hoarder. My bother wasn't supposed to quit the family. My sister wasn't supposed to be so sick. I wasn't supposed to be such a failure.

I dry my tears on my sleeve.

I step on the scale... 226lbs

I've failed yet again.

I turn on my computer

I Google 'diet'

If only I could do something right! It seems as if everything I touch is ruined.

My social club fell apart.... my classes sucked.... my job got to be too much.

Why can't I just fit in this world?! I would be better off dead.

The world would be a better place without me.

I'm worthless.

I stop eating, I don't deserve to live. Please let the hunger take me away!

I flip through a Vogue magazine.

I cut out the most beautiful girls

I past them into my note book

I want to look like them

I might be better if I did

I know looks don't make a person. It's stupid to think that being pretty or thin or both would make my life any better....

But if I were thin, it might be easier to get a job... people would like me and want me to work for them.

If I were thin, guys might want to date me... I might be able to find love....

I know it's stupid.

But I believe it.

I don't eat a thing for two days

I break.

I eat too much.

I purge.

I cry.

And then I look at myself in the mirror.