Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Fairy Tale

When I was young, I harbored this fantasy that my mother had stolen me and raised me as her child. I imagined I belonged to a loving aristocratic, or even royal family who would never dare punish me, raise their voice, or make me cry.

I thought I was the only one who questioned my parentage until I started taking psychology, when I realized we're all greatly influenced by Hans Christian-Anderson and Walt Disney... as well as some deep seated loathing against parental authority. I was no longer alone in my paranoia. It made me feel a little less unique.


I felt like I've eaten a lot today. It's amounted to about 425 total... but it feels like at least 1500. All of it was forced on me by my kidnapper.

Really, I did try to choke down the late snack, then the dinner... but when it came down to the second dinner, it was just too much. A fight ensued. I tried to bargain that I would eat if I could go out afterwards, like a princess locked up in a tower.

She tells me if I don't start eating more food (aka more than 500 a day, I forgot that she's counting) I'll have to live somewhere else until I go to London. This was almost in the same breath as, "You might as well be up in your room snorting cocaine."

I don't even think anyone who knows what this is like has to dignify that with a response. But I'll try anyway. Hmmm... I wish it was a choice. I wish I woke up one day and said, "Today, I'm going to vow to whiddle myself down to 14% body fat (ugh still seems too high), risk osteopenia and organ problems. Get stares from my friends and family who will glance from afar and say 'Is that Savory? No that girl is too thin to be Savory.' Oh, and probably ruin my fertility forever."

The later of which, I have to say I'm not terribly sorry about. A little evolutionary part of me is screaming to have kids, but the fucked-up selfish part of me knows that's not a good idea and that this isn't the worst side effect.


Don't worry Mommy Dearest, I won't land myself into the hospital again and send you into a fury about medical bills. Though, if euthanasia was legal, I could just step into some kind of suicide-toll booth and save me, you, and everybody else a whole lot of trouble... side stepping even the death panels.

I sobbed in my room until I sleepily began to stop caring. Then I asked myself, "Do you burn calories when you cry? Or do you just make yourself bloated?"

Yeah, there's no escape.


what if summer... said...

Wow, I've never heard a demand for more calories as a basis for an ultimatum like that. That's a new one on me.

And every time I think of suicide booths, I think of Futurama. The main character wants to make a phone call and ends up stumbling into a Suicide Booth. His options were, "Quick and Painless, or Slow and Agonizing."

Christ that show is amazing.

Oh, and I'm sure crying and laughing burn the same amount of calories. That is if you're doing either of them super hard.


Anonymous said...

I'm sorry Savory, dear ='(
I know how this feels though..I'll post something from my *personal* journal:

Lo: I feel like cutting, hurting and running until my muscles snap but at the same time I feel like something finally gave in. I feel more calm and rational than I ever did [I'm down to my lowest weight: 97.2].

And the light shone through the clouds.

This is a suicide journal from now on. I'll still have my food journal and a weight calendar. This place is for thoughts alone, and as grim and dark and lonely as I am, they will be too. Next minute I'm propped against my pillow reading Blood Meridian (one of the most beautifully written novels in 20th century) and I find this quote on the page where I left off and it fucking speaks to and of me (eerie!):

“And if the dried and blackened shell of him is found among the sands by travelers to come yet who can discover the engine of his ruin?”

So, there you go. (ps. I don't really like blogging about myself because umm..my life is not worthy even of virtual space? but I love love reading others' blogs and leaving long boring comments!)

Love your blog! You are beautiful, and some twisted part of me wishes I had your bruises...

<3 Much support and love

PrettyWreck said...

It's...hard to deal with parents, or even understand, sometimes, what the hell they're going on about. Or for them to understand us. They're about as lost as we are, only they have power over our lives without quite understanding what's going on in them.

It's not bad to not really want a kid. I...sort of wish more people wound up infertile. That's terrible, isn't it? It's just, there's too many already. And there are so many who are hungry for any home, with any person who will just give them the time of day. They live inside of group homes where, due to government regulations, they're not even allowed to walk around without shoes on. From the moment they wake up until the morning they go to bed, they have to wear their shoes. They're forgotten, abused, abandoned, with no form of comfort or stability. And women and men everywhere who are infertile run to doctors to get pregnant or make themselves able to carry or seek out surrogate mothers, because we are a nation of narcissists, unable and unwilling to love a child that does not carry our genetic profile.

But that's my little rant for the day.

I'm sorry your mom is giving you so much trouble. I'm sorry you give yourself so much as well. It's not really an easy life, is it? Especially because it's not something most people understand, nor are they willing to try and understand.
Silence, fake smiles, and resentment.
It's amazing how much you can still hide behind bones.

Yum said...

I still have that fantasy.

It's funny how when you get used to eating low-cal you start to think anything more than your usual is "a lot". I ate maybe 700 calories yesterday, because I had a "big" dinner.

If your mom is comparing EDs to drug use, she obviously doesn't understand how they work. How can you "recover" if she still thinks you're doing it just to be rebellious?

I feel the same way about kids. I go back and forth.

Feel better, hon. You'll be on your own soon enough.

Tri Thin said...

listen to the selfish part - when you are ready to have children in your life that voice quiets and you'll know it's right & if the voice never shuts up, now worries, not everyone has to have kids for their life to be complete or fulfilled (which is the nonsense I hear from people when they tell others to have children).

I'm not having a second kid anytime soon because that selfish voice is telling me I love the time I have to myself and I'm not ready to give it up just yet.

I'm starting to think parents harassing their friends about having kids is the same as marrieds telling others they need to find love - they just want everyone to be as exhausted and worn down emotionally as they are, misery loves company, right?

(*& you know I'm only half joking about the misery part, I love my son)

Dot said...

awe : ( I'm sorry...I can't believe she compared your lack of eating to snorting cocaine...I hope you feel better darling <3

Ana's Girl said...

Aww. Crying takes so much energy it must burn Calories. How rude of your mom. She clearly doesn't understand what it's like AT ALL. Stay strong, dearie. It has to get better at some point.

obsessed_ana said...

I really hope things don't get that bad and controlled with my mom. She heard me purging the other night. I denied it but she isn't stupid, she was bulimic for 16 years.

Flushed said...

I still wish I had some long lost somethingorother to sweep me away and rescue me from this life of mine.

Perhaps it'll happen tomorrow...

le sigh.

...a girl can dream...

Flushed said...

I still wish I had some long lost somethingorother to sweep me away and rescue me from this life of mine.

Perhaps it'll happen tomorrow...

le sigh.

...a girl can dream...

design by suckmylolly.com