What Eating Disorder?

Day One: I swear I walked by, nothing more.

I heard the shatter of glass and saw the blood under my feet, then the floor rushed up to meet me.

I woke up in the bathroom seconds later.

No glass, no blood, I'm not crazy.

The world seemed to be moving around my eyes; shifting each time I tried to catch it.

Bullshit.

I'm tired of it and I'm sure everyone else is too.

I grabbed the obnoxiously bright blue sticky notes off my desk, the black sharpie, and started to scribble in my rushed, messy writing.

"FAT ASS"

And on the mirror it went.

Day Two: Dots were floating around my eyes making sure I didn't see past them.

I won't pass out again, I swear.

There's no reason for my body to shut down, I'm getting pretty.

Not even close! ... Even I can't shut up the voice in my head.

Ouch.

Since when was that door there? Guess the dots are more coordinated than me.

Sticky notes, sharpie.

"I'M NOT ANOREXIC"

It accompanied "fat ass" on the all too truthful mirror.

Day three: I could feel it;

Scream its shrill little screams, tell its sob story, and eat itself like a cannibal.

No stomach, I listen to myself, you're enough of a nuisance as it is.

I doubled over in pain as a result of this statement... Fucking karma.

Now the routine walk of shame to my desk; bright blue and black were a nice contrast.

"SIZE 0"

I admired the zero, so empty, nothing more than a thin line around it and it didn't complain... No time for self pity, on the mirror it went.

Lost track: One sticky note a day became two, then three, and so on so forth. They were breeding like rabbits in a cage.

All I know is that in two weeks time I couldn't my worthless, pathetic body in the mirror. And the very last note said:

"PURGE"