‹ Prequel: The "You're Not Fat" Campaign
Relearning Laura
Gone
When I get home, I throw away the (empty you fatass empty go Laura!) slushie cup and hurry up to my room. I open my laptop, click on iTunes. While I'm waiting for it to load, I open the drawer under my bed where my trigger books and stash of laxatives and diuretics are. I pick up Wintergirls and Wasted and throw them into the trash can, followed by the weight loss pills. My scale is the next thing to go.
NO YOU NEED THAT!
No, I do not need that. I do not need any of this.
I take my trash out to the bin in the garage, then go back upstairs and go through my music library. I find each and every trigger song and deletedeletedelete.
You'll regret this!
I don't care.
When everything is gone, I feel a bizarre mix of emotions.
Pride. I just took a huge step. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. Not anymore. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. Not anymore. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning. Not anymore.
Loss. I am losing a huge part of myself. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning.
Happiness. I am gaining what I lost. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. They aren't anymore. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. I don't need safeties. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning. Now I have more reasons. Rick, Meg, Cassie, college, yoga, reading, music, myself, life.
Anger. I gave up so much for that stupid stupid disorder. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning. I am angry because I spent my time being cold and suicidal and hungry and tired instead of happy and healthy and thriving and alive.
But I have done the right thing. I know it.
Wintergirls and Wasted are gone.
The laxatives and diuretics and Imogen Heap songs are gone.
The scale is gone.
Only I remain.
NO YOU NEED THAT!
No, I do not need that. I do not need any of this.
I take my trash out to the bin in the garage, then go back upstairs and go through my music library. I find each and every trigger song and deletedeletedelete.
You'll regret this!
I don't care.
When everything is gone, I feel a bizarre mix of emotions.
Pride. I just took a huge step. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. Not anymore. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. Not anymore. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning. Not anymore.
Loss. I am losing a huge part of myself. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning.
Happiness. I am gaining what I lost. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. They aren't anymore. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. I don't need safeties. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning. Now I have more reasons. Rick, Meg, Cassie, college, yoga, reading, music, myself, life.
Anger. I gave up so much for that stupid stupid disorder. Wintergirls and Wasted were my Bibles. The laxatives and diuretics were my safeties. My scale was the only reason I got up in the morning. I am angry because I spent my time being cold and suicidal and hungry and tired instead of happy and healthy and thriving and alive.
But I have done the right thing. I know it.
Wintergirls and Wasted are gone.
The laxatives and diuretics and Imogen Heap songs are gone.
The scale is gone.
Only I remain.