I dream about egg whites and mustard. I am so hungry that I cannot concentrate. I am cold all the time. My hands shake. My hair falls out.
At work today, every co-workers comments are about how thin I am. It seems that after 2 months of starving, puking and exercising excessively, I have finally got affirmation that it is working. My chest bones stick out of my leotard. My hip bones protrude. My ribs show.
“You are wasting away. Please eat,” one friend says as he hugs me and raps on my shoulder blades.
“You’re too skinny. What are you eating?” another teacher says as she grabs my waist.
My mentor shakes her head, “How will you have the strength to dance? You are far too thin.”
“How much weight have you lost?! You are so gaunt,” says a dancer that I haven’t seen for 2 weeks. She looks at me in horror and I shake my head. I don’t want my students to hear this conversation in the hallway.
I skype my mother and she freaks out at how thin I am. “It is too much. You don’t look well.”
It has taken 2 months to reach this point of no return. All I see in the mirror is how much more weight I can lose. My ‘break up’ diet is completely out of control. Tonight I skipped yoga and came home to binge and purge instead. My day time regime of green tea, carrots and rice crackers has left me famished. I down 2 bowls of soup and 2 bowls of cereal and a glass of wine. I puke it straight back up. I feel guilty for not exercising but I am so tired.
I have been on several dates in the last week. Every time we go out he tries to feed me. I watch horrified as he spoons food onto my plate. He makes endless jokes about my lack of appetite. I laugh along. He has no idea what he is getting into. He puts his hands on my hips.
“Wow….bones,” he says. I am still sickeningly satisfied. He runs his hands along my spine, rubbing each vertebrae. I am still numb from my recent break up. I am damaged. I am fragile. He cannot possibly know this.
And all the words of concern just give me the courage to starve more.