Nervosa

I'm not exactly sure when my obsession began, but I do recall why. I had just started sixth grade, while Gerard was entering Belleville High School. I'm not sure if Gee wanted to go to high school at the time, but I know that after he began it, he wanted out. He had this idea that high school would be the same as it was in middle school, but I guess he realized that he was sadly mistaken. Gerard had always been teased about his weight, but when he got into ninth grade, he got it so much worst. He wasn't just the "chubby" boy anymore, he got called worst names. I walked into his room one night, looking for any random comic that I could find on his floor. At this point in time, he hadn't moved to the basement yet, so he had a room next to mine. I could see his figure lying underneath his covers, so I lifted them to see his red face with tears dripping down to the fabric of his sheets. "What's wrong Gee?" I pushed my glasses up towards my eyes, only to feel them drip right back down again. "I'm fat."

I don't remember much about that night, nothing important anyways. I just remember walking into the bathroom and taking off my shirt to look at my skin. As Gerard was, I was dissatisfied with the way I looked. A few weeks before hand I remember my mom watching a movie on TV. The movie had this short fat girl who began something called Anorexia, as they called it, and I remember watching what she did. She started to "purge", which at the time, I had to clue what any of these words meant, but I suppose that by now I've grown a custom to them. When I had entered reality again, I decided that if it worked for her, it was bound to work for me. I leaned over the sink and then "purged", as the term for it is. I knew not to use the toilet because as a smaller child, being sick and vomiting, the toilet almost always echoed. That's how my mom heard me puking when I couldn't make it to her room to tell her. I knew that if this was to be a non-stop deal, I'd had to make it as classified to myself as possible.

Now, four years later, I haven't dropped an inch. Sometimes I think that I'm not good enough to lose the weight. Then again, sometimes I think that the world would just like to see me suffer. I don't see how Gerard has slimmed down a hell of a lot, but I can't. Sure, Gee is still some what chubby, but not as much as he used to be. He's gotten a lot taller, and a lot skinnier. Of course, he's still an outcast, but he is dressed up as a girl as we speak. He's decided to dress up as a woman for collage, to prove a point. Which I have to hand it to him, he has. He gets treated a lot nicer than a dude with black hair and eyeliner would in New York. He's in Manhattan right now, earning his Fine Arts degree from The School of Visual Arts. He says that it will only take four years for him to get the Cartooning and Illustration degree, that would mean within the next few months, he'll be gone for three more years. I know that kids in Jersey usually have a 99% chance of not doing anything with their lives, but I think Gee draws amazingly, why does he need to leave? I just miss my brother, but if he were to come back now, I think my mom would be highly pissed. Her oldest son is actually doing something with his life, while her youngest son is a tenth grader that does absolutely nothing. Of course, she tells me that's not so.

Without Gerard around the house anymore, I'm stuck talking to no one. Gee was my best friend, well. . .he is my best friend. I just know behind his eyes, he's judging me with every move I make. I don't like the feeling of being watched because of that reason. I don't like going anywhere where eyes can prey on me, and judge me for being the way that I am. Somehow, Gerard made it through four years in high school, without being put down. Of course, I take those words in a different way, he didn't allow the insults to run his life. He didn't let those people call him names and make him think he wasn't good enough to go to collage. I, on the other hand, take every insult, and every stare as something I should believe myself. Then, when I do, I allow them to ruin my mind and my life. It's different though, Gee got told the truth about his weight, in a bad manner, but he got told the truth, and I don't. I get told the exact opposite, which just make them worst. I don't get told how fat I am, I get told I'm to skinny. I think they just like seeing myself inch further between the cracks of my own life.

I prefer to shut everyone out of my life, life seems a lot easier knowing that you don't have to answer back to it's demeaning calls. The only bad thing about it is, you start talking to yourself. Voices erupt from your mind, and they aren't always so nice. They like to put you down worst that you get put down in every day life. Nothing hurts worst than walking by a mirror and hearing a voice inside you head call you pathetic. I've tried blocking them out as best I can, but nothing ever works. The louder the music, the louder they get, resulting in a headache from fucking hell. I've tried reading, but they turn every word I see in the book or comic into another slap in the face. Sometimes I feel like death would be a lot easier to handle than living like this, but then I think about all the things that hurt me. That would make them happy wouldn't it? Then it results into my thinking that I should stick around for a few moments longer to make their life hell, as they've made it for me. I'm a sick fuck, and I know it.