Anorexia by Jenna Marie (grave mercy txt) 📖

the gym. Maybe I should go more often? Four times a week isn’t enough, apparently. FEBRUARY

My jeans and shirts are really baggy now. They make me look heavy. I need new clothes.

I’ve been holding my pants up with a belt for the past few weeks. My waist is just a little too big for the fifth notch in the leather. I want to be small enough to pull the belt that tight. I just need to work a bit more.

Amy is going to take me shopping tomorrow, on the first day of February break.

105 lbs.

MARCH

Bryan asked Amy out. She called me this morning and told me. I could hear how excited she was. I told her “That’s great!” and she said she had to go because Bryan was waiting on the other line. I hung up and fell back onto my bed, sobbing.

Why didn’t he ask me out? Am I still not pretty enough? What’s wrong with me?!

Am I still overweight? What if I die because I’m so heavy? What if I have a heart attack? I don’t want to die. I hope I’m doing enough.

But it can’t be enough. Bryan asked Amy out, not me.

Still crying, I got up and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My makeup had smudged and I wipe at it with the palm of my hand.

I lean on the counter and close my eyes. I try to calm myself by taking a few deep breaths. I wipe away the tears and turn to the side before opening my eyes. I look immediately at my waist. I lift up my shirt. I can see my ribs a bit, but that’s what losing weight does to you. You can see bones. That’s perfectly normal. But it seems there’s still fat on my stomach. I feel sick and hunch over the sink. I don’t throw up, but I wish I had.

I eventually dare to look at my reflection again. I stare at my legs. The jeans I bought while I was with Amy are already getting baggy. I think I can deal for a little while longer without needing new pants, though.

But my thighs are still so fat. I hate it. I hate my body. I can’t lose weight fast enough.

I went back to my bed and collapsed. Before falling asleep, I realize I can only eat the tiniest bits of things from now on. I hate to even do that, but if still having to put something into my body is necessary, I’ll have to do it. I’d rather not eat anything at all.

APRIL

Eating almost nothing seems to work. I also found a weight loss medication a few days ago at a local CVS. I take two pills a day.

I’m down to the sixth notch in the belt I’ve been wearing. I love being able to see my hip bones. It makes me feel thinner than I really am, and I like it.

97 lbs.

Amy and Bryan are together all the time now. They’re basically joined at the hip. They hardly talk to me, even though I still sit with them in the cafeteria. It’s like I’m not even there. Am I just a ghost to them? Am I invisible?

Mom and Dad called again. They asked if I’m coming home for Easter break and I lied and told them I have too much school work to do.

I actually just don’t want them interfering with my eating/workout schedule. I don’t want to forget to take my pills.

I’ve been biting my nails, too. They’re really brittle now, and I’ve taken time to paint them with thick coats of clear enamel. My skin has been dry, too. And my hair isn’t as full as it was in the past.

Amy texted me around dinnertime one night. She said she and Bryan are worried about me—that I’ve been getting thinner and thinner. I waited a little while before texting her back. Finally I sent a response.

Wht? Theres nothing 2 worry about.im OK

My phone buzzes again a few minutes later:

R u sure? u look so thin its scary and u havent been eating much @ lunch

I write,

i promise im fine. dont worry

She never replied. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since then.

MAY

I had to poke a new hole in my belt this morning. And I bought jeans again.

I take time out of my day to carefully weigh and reweigh myself. 88 lbs.

But I still feel too fat. My legs especially—there’s just so much excess fat there, and I can’t seem to get rid of it.

I’ve gotten to the point where I haven’t been going to the cafeteria for a single meal.  I’ve been living off small amounts of fruit, water, and pills. That’s enough for me. And I’m proud of myself when I feel hungry. I feel like I’ve made a great accomplishment and that I have a talent for getting rid of weight. I feel really guilty if I eat more than four bites of something a day.

With final exams coming up, I’ve been spending twenty hours in my room. Even though I’m studying like a maniac, I can’t seem to retain anything.

The remaining four hours of my day are taken up with workout time. Amy isn’t at the gym anymore, and she never comes to visit. Neither does Bryan. If my phone happens to ring, I ignore it—unless my parent’s ringtone starts. Only then will I answer.

And now that I think about it, I realize I haven’t gotten my period in a while. Maybe I’m getting the flu or something. That’s probably why it’s late.

I weigh myself before I went to bed. On that particular day, I was 89 lbs.

I froze, my eyes fixated on the number reading on the scale. I gained a pound since yesterday. That can’t be right.

I stepped off the scale and got back on again. I’m still 89 lbs.

Oh no oh no oh no. I can’t gain weight. How did that even happen? Where did this extra pound come from?!

Maybe it’s the fruit I’m eating. But fruit doesn’t have fat. Maybe I’m eating too much?

I immediately alter my diet to one bite of an apple a day, one glass of water, and three pills. By the end of the week, I was down to 85 lbs.

JUNE

I finished finals week. Over the weekend, I spend my time packing up my belongings. Mom and Dad are coming to pick me up next week. I can’t wait for them to see how thin I am, even though I’ve only lost like 30 pounds and I know I can lose more. They’ll be so proud of me!

I don’t bother going to look for Amy and Bryan, and they don’t come looking for me. I don’t even care anymore.

Friday morning I get a text from Mom while I’m still lounging around in my pajamas. She tells me they’re here, and their car is parked right outside my building. I write her back, saying my door is open; they can come in and grab my stuff. I still want to shower before we leave.

While I’m getting dressed in the bathroom, I hear my parents walking around my room. They’re making sure I didn’t forget anything. In the silence, Dad starts asking me how finals were.

“I think they went well. I’ll get my grades in a few days.” I pack up my cosmetics and head out into my room. Dad is sitting on my bed, and Mom is checking my drawers. Both look up at me at the same time, and stare.

“Sweetie, are you ill?” Mom asks immediately.

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

She comes over to me and feels my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

“I know I don’t, Mom,” I say, confused. I head over to my bed and dump my toiletries into a small bag.

“Have you always been that thin, or do I just not remember?” Dad asks. I face him.

“I’ve been working out a lot and dieting. Don’t I look good now?”

Mom stares at me. “How much do you weigh?” her voice is serious, and I’m almost afraid to answer her.

“Eighty pounds. Why?”

She gasps. “What have you been doing to yourself?! Are you insane?!”

“I’ve just been trying to lose weight,