I wake up late. It is a quarter past eleven and I have missed my morning classes. I feel terrible. My head aches. My mouth feels dry. My throat is sore. My eyes are puffy. And my face feels swollen. I get out of bed and almost faint I am so dizzy. Remembering last night’s binge-eating and vomiting, I feel so ashamed and disgusted with myself. Why do I do it? I go to the bathroom and get on the scales. I do this three times just to make sure. 127 pounds. I have gained two pounds since yesterday. This is terrible.
Today I shall have to make sure I eat absolutely nothing. I have three glasses of water and feel a little better, resolved to fast for the entire day. I consider having a bath but shower instead so that I will not have to look at my thighs spreading out before me. I decide that I am too fat to go out. I pad round my room doing a little tidying and trying to write a letter to my mother. But I can’t stick at anything. All I can think about is how fat I am. At a quarter past two I weigh myself again. Three times. 126 pounds. Hooray!
I drop in on a friend. She is in the kitchen. I join her and, when she offers me a cracker, I have one. I have two more. I am feeling very nervous now because I should not have eaten anything. I excuse myself, go to the toilet, drink water from the tap, and stick my fingers down my throat and get rid of the crackers. I feel better but still a little shaky because I think I am hungry. Thoughts of food go round and round in my head.
I decide it was a mistake to come out and head back to my room. On the way I pass the bakery. In a moment the urge to binge sweeps over me and my resolve crumbles. I buy two Danish pastries, a cheese roll, three doughnuts and, round the corner, two chocolate bars and a large bottle of lemonade. I rush up to my room, spread the lot out before me. I start eating. At first the taste and texture of the pastry is wonderful. I feel thrilled and appalled at the same time. I eat very fast. I drink the lemonade straight from the bottle to wash down the food. I just shovel it in, not tasting it at all. In 20 minutes it has all gone. I feel uncomfortably full. If I try to move I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. I try not to look down because I am aware that my stomach is sticking out.
I go to the toilet, stick my finger down my throat and vomit. I do this again and again to make sure I get rid of as much of the food as possible. I go to my bed and lie down. All I can think about is that I have gained more weight. I try to calm down but this is impossible and I go and weigh myself. 128 pounds. I feel in despair. I go back to my bed, lie down and cry. I hate myself. I hate my fat body. I am so disgusting.
I doze for a while. When I wake up I feel I must eat. It is night. I go to the corner shop. I feel as if I am almost in a trance. I buy more food. Chocolates, bread, a pack of cereal. Thankfully nobody knows me around here. I return to my room and eat the lot. I vomit again. I feel terrible. I cry myself to sleep.