Days to remember-

Casey, 17, Endangered bulimic

‘Just one more time’ I thought to myself ‘one more time and you’ll be done.’ Taking a deep breath I turned the faucet as far as it could go. The familiar running of the water made my head spin, it’s not like I want to puke my guts out, I just want to feel pretty. I lowered myself to the floor hanging my head over the toilet. I stuck my finger down my throat moving it around, trying to get myself to gag. I’ve done this since I was a freshman, ever since my boyfriend dumped me because I gained a little weight. You could probably figure out that my gag reflex isn’t what it used to be, it’s been getting a bit hard to find that little pin point. I finally press in the right spot feeling the expensive food I just ate leaving my body. When I’m all done I stand in front of my mirror, taking in the rancid taste in my mouth as punishment for stuffing my face with food. I take my shirt off examining my fragile figure. I’m 5’5” and I weigh about 95 pounds, I have short blonde hair and I’m one of the most popular kids at my school. I haven’t told anyone that I throw-up every night to make myself feel better, but I’m sure they’ve guessed. Nobody understands what it’s like to wake up every morning and feel so…ugly. I strive to get all the guys at school to pay attention to me, and it usually works. I go to all the parties, and my friends and I are the ones who end up on the tables dancing for beer. I could call myself privileged, I never get in trouble and I live on the high end of society. Pretty much I get what I want. I surround myself with the things that everyone else wants. But really I just want to feel like I belong to my body. I know I don’t treat my body right and I know that I should stop throwing-up. But every time I take a bite of that 500 calorie burger, I head starts spinning with hateful thoughts of how fat I’m going to get if I keep eating it. I’ve been so tired lately. I’m sleeping in class and I hardly have the energy to get upstairs to my room after school. Right now as I’m looking at my bony figure my head is starting to spin and I feel lightheaded. I struggle to put my shirt back on, which makes me so tired that I have to sit on the edge of my bathtub to regain my strength. I take in five deep breaths and stand, I sway slightly but push myself to flush the toilet and turn the faucet off. I don’t even have enough energy to go downstairs and get something to drink. Instead I fall onto my bed and pass out.