I'm disgusting
2004-09-11, 5:30 p.m.

Today I went to Burger King to get a burger to add to my binge food for this evening.

A very, very large couple was ordering after me as I waited for my Jr. Whopper. I ease dropped on their order: "Can I get two number 2's without buns. And uhh...two big kid meals." They brought their kids with them, obviously to continue the cycle of obesity. The very slim girl behind the counter snickered at the 'without buns' comment. Like doing the whole no carb thing is going to save them when they are ordering greasy burgers and fries. Then the woman requested to subsitute their drinks for the cheesecake they were offering. Oh God, you have to be kidding me.

"Two number two's, low carb, subsitute drinks for cheesecake, and two big kid meals." They waddled over to fill up their water cups. The woman behind the counter handed them their trays. The very large wife requested ranch dressing, because of course, she didn't get a bun on her hamburger, so ranch won't hurt her weight. This was too much. I took my burger, laughing on the inside, and left. But how was I any better? The only difference between me and them was that there problem was evident to everyone. I just barfed everything I ate, making my one burger looking perfectly normal. But behind closed doors I probably look sicker then them.

Sometimes I walk in on my mom talking to who knows what...the voices in her head, the neighbors across the street (she claims), the police radio (as she says), and i snap at her. I call her crazy and fucked up, or most of the time now i just don't say anything and I shake my head. I shake my head and she tenses up and stops talking all together. But most of time when I walk in on her, she is in the kitchen and I am cooking my binge food in the evening. How dare I shake my head at her when I am so fucked up and sick also? I act like I'm all better and she's so messed up but look at me: I'm carrying plate after plate of food up to my room just to scarf it down in the next hour, then heave it into the toilet.

Sometimes when I'm purging, it's like I have this out of body expierence. There is one of me sitting in the corner of the ceiling, looking down at me. It says to the other Melissa "holy fuck, what are you doing?" She takes a step back and just says "God, you're such a disgusting, worthless, human being." Or she just kind of gasps. Like "My God, what have you become?" That's when I shut my eyes harder and jab my fingers harder and close my ears tighter. I don't want to think about it.

I use to binge because I was hungry. Then I binged to fill a hole in me. Now I binge because I feel like I have to. It's like a compulsion. Now the only question is on what and when.

And when will I stop.