Not Enough For an Eating Disorder

I have lost weight since I was in fifth grade

and I know this because I have tracked my weight,

watching it go up and down,

like a child on a Carousel.

I am only a freshman in High School,

so most people believe that by now I should be able to

look at myself in the mirror

and say,

"God, I have gotten so thin!"

and feel happy that I don't look like the girl I did four years ago.

But the truth is, I can hardly look at myself, even when I see

my reflection in the pots and pans as I put them away,

without wanting to hide my face with a bag that reminds me

of the way I used to feel in fifth grade;

empty, flimsy, just boring and ugly.

I still look at myself as the fat girl in fifth grade.

She never goes away.

While I believe I'm still that fat girl,

the tall, pretty, and thin girls taunts me at the back of my throat,

yelling, "You'll never catch me!"

And I think if I can just reach back there and grab her

tiny, perfect waist,

I can infact catch her.

But once I think of catching her,

I remember sitting at the doctor's office,

reading a magazine about eating disorders

about how a side effect of

bulimia,

is rotting, ruined teeth.

So for a whole week,

I let the perfect girl taunt and tease me,

as I let nothing get past her.

I try to see if I can piss her off by doing something about it,

try working out before bed,

hoping I'll be a little thinner the next morning.

But instead she fights back and makes it impossble to stand up after

forty or fifty sit ups.

I realize I may have a problem, but talking to my friend

as she looked me up and down,

she tells me,

"That's not enough for an eating disorder."

This poem is about: 
Me

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