I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than feel the bone aching cold that I feel. It’s not cold like most people feel, it’s the cold that makes you feel as though your bones are those plastic ice packs and your blood is slowing down and slowly freezing. Your skin feels funny with cold, you can’t feel the flesh around your mouth, your face is numb and a mixture of red and grey and blue. It’s as if you will never be warm again. It’s the cold that a hat and scarf can’t fix.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than the bruises on my hips. The bruises from your bathtub, you tried to have a bath to get warm but ended up tossing and turning because your bones pressed into the plastic and with no padding it’s agony. The bruises from your bed where your mattress presses against raw bone. It hurts. Everything you do hurts.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than exercise until I’m crying with pain and exhaustion. You can’t stop, the voice in your head won’t let you and it will reel off a thousand reasons why you can’t stop: ‘the number on the scales, something bad will happen, what will you do when you stop exercising?’ It will go on and on and on at you and you can’t stop it. You’ll carry on weak and exhausted with tears rolling down your cheeks.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than lay on the bathroom floor biting on a towel to try and cope with the pain of my laxative addiction. You’re too scared to stop but you’re also too scared to carry on, the more you take, the more you need and you can barely afford to keep buying them. Everyday you worry the pharmacist will refuse, you have a plan A, B, C and D because you need these little yellow pills. You don’t sleep anymore, you’ve timed it so precisely. The pain is the worst you’ve ever felt and sometimes you fear you’re going to die from it. You don’t know how to stop. You are trapped.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than see my mum in tears as I lay in a hospital bed. Nothing feels worse than seeing the woman who gave birth to you and taught you all you know crying and knowing that those tears are because of you. No mother should have to watch her child die.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than have blood stained socks from speed walking and not being able to stop myself. You’re walking down the street at top speed. You worry people are staring at you, that they know you’re secret. Your shoes and tights are rubbing against your heels, you can feel the wetness of your blood on your heels. You can’t stop. You turn the music up and push your earphones into your ears as tight as you can. Breathless you walk faster and faster and faster. Exhausted but you can’t stop.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than obsess over food all day. You go on your phone to stare at pictures of food, obsess over recipe books and watch the cooking channel all day. You rarely eat food but you spend every waking hour thinking about it and looking at it. It will drive you insane. You think of nothing else. You can’t concentrate on anything else. Food food food food food.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than a body that doesn’t function properly, particularly in the bladder department. You constantly need to go to the toilet because all your muscles have weakened and your bladder can barely hold any fluid. You will worry constantly about where the bathroom is and spend your day walking to and from it. Service stations are your best friend.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than miss out on making memories with the people around me. Your friends and family all love you but your eating disorder convinces you that they are the enemy, they hate you, they’d be better off without you. Mix that with the exhaustion your eating disorder leaves you with and you’ve got a very boring and lonely life to live. You are watching the clock ticking, your life is being wasted and it will eat you up inside.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than sit on the kitchen floor shoveling food into my mouth. You will eat without tasting as your body forces you to binge instead of die. You will bites your cheeks and scratch your throat with food. You aren’t enjoying it but you can’t stop. Your body won’t let you stop. Guilt overwhelms you afterwards, the fat, the calories, the weight gain and the money your mother spent on that food. You want to tear your skin off. You will scream through tears, “Please let this be a nightmare, please let me wake up.”
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than stand in front of a mirror pinching my naked body. You stand there pinching your thighs and your stomach. Body checking will drive you insane. You will feel like you are thin, fat and healthy all in the same day. You’re caught up in the confusion of it all. You won’t even know who you are anymore.
I’d rather have a bowl of coco pops than lose my life to anorexia.
Here’s today’s sock it to eating disorders silly socks photo:
(continuing the cereal theme)
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