| November 29, 2000 |
| She knew she ate too much. She couldn't take that feeling. Her stomach started to hurt, but she knew she couldn't tell anyone about it. She started to play with her long fingernails, as her heart started to beat faster and faster. "Ashley," she told herself. "Calm down. You're not going to gain weight. You don't have to do it." But she has told herself this a thousand times before. She knew that she wouldn't be able to convince herself of her own words. She was addicted to the bulimia, and she felt like there was no way out now. Without even thinking, she went right into the bathroom and lifted up the toilet seat. Everyone was gone, so she didn't have to do it in the shower, like she normally did. She seemed to hesitate, scared of what might happen. She said a small prayer to herself, praying to God that nothing would happen to her. She knelt down slowly, and she stuck her finger in her mouth. She wriggled it around in her throat, and it all seemed to come up very easily. She had induced vomiting so many times that it was almost silent. More and more came up faster and faster, until she didn't even need her finger in her throat anymore. As it was coming to an end, she started to strain herself. The stomach acid tasted horrible and her stomach kind of hurt, but she didn't care. Finally, she stopped, and flushed the toilet. She looked all around for any clues that might indicate that she had thrown up. She didn't find any, so she sat down on the floor and tried to relax a little. She closed her eyes tightly. She was really dizzy and her head hurt terribly. She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands. She was shaking, and she couldn't seem to stop. She sighed loudly, as a single tear fell from her light brown eyes. She started to cry harder, as all of her emotions spilled out at once. She tried to stand up, but she fell back down. She was just too weak. She grabbed onto the sink and picked herself up. Once she was up, she looked into the mirror. "Oh, God," she said aloud. "Why did you make me so ugly? Why can't you just let me die?" She was absolutely disgusted with the way she looked. Her long auburn hair was all messed up, and her eyes were all red from crying so much. She was really pale, and it almost looked like she was dead. She decided to put on some make-up to cover it. Ashley took out what she needed and applied it. She put on the powder and foundation first. Then, the blush, the lipstick, and all of her eye make-up. She brushed her hair and concluded that she looked better. She didn't look good, but she looked better. She stumbled out of the bathroom and into her own bedroom across the hall. She laid right on her bed, not wanting to look into the full-length mirror. It was alright to look into a mirror that only showed her face, but she didn't like to look into a mirror that showed her whole body. She didn't even know why she had it in her room. She had guessed that it was just there to remind her of how ugly she was, so she didn't eat too much. As she laid on her bed, a million thoughts raced through her mind. "I wonder how much more damage I just did to myself... Am I ever going to stop this?... I don't think I can control this anymore... Will I ever be pretty enough, so I don't have to do this?... I am too ugly to look at right now... Please God, don't let my mom find out that I'm still doing this..." Just then, she felt a cold breeze blow in through her window. She looked out and saw a cardinal fly gracefully onto the tree right outside of her window. She stared at it for a while and smiled. She had not noticed what a wonderful day it was outside. Too many problems had kept her from realizing it. Problems. That word just seemed to pop into her mind, and her heart sank. She really didn't like to think of her problems, but sometimes she couldn't help it. All of them just seemed to kill her with every passing minute. Her Grandma had just died a little while ago. When she died, Ashley seemed to die along with her. Her Grandma had practically raised her, and she was the closest person to her. For a while before she died, Ashley had not treated her as respectively as she should have. Now that she was gone, Ashley really regretted it. That made her feel worse than she already did. She, also, realized how much she needed her Grandmother. Everything just seemed to get worse after that, and she didn't have anyone to talk to about it. Her mother was never in the mood and never listened to her, anyways. No one else in her family seemed to care enough to come around her. She never got to tell her Grandma how much she loved her, when she died, and how much she meant to her. She had hoped that she had already known, but something kept telling her that she didn't. It was a horrible feeling. Ashley had never experienced a loss, and it was horrible to start out with the person closest to her. Her Grandmother had never known about her bulimia. She had guessed that it was better that way. It would have hurt her Grandmother too much to know about it. Her Grandma had always been the one to tell her how beautiful she was. Even when they weren't even talking about it, she would say it. These thoughts brought tears to Ashley's eyes. She didn't like to reminisce, since it hurt so much, yet she still did it. She was trying so hard not to cry at this point. She didn't want to mess up her make-up, but she, also, didn't like to cry. She did it so often that she began to hate it. This time she was able to hold back her tears. She just had to blank out her mind. All of a sudden, she thought of something. "Crap," she yelled. "I forgot about my appointment!" As if on cue, she heard her Mom beep the car horn outside. She ran out of her room and put on her shoes, blanking out everything she had thought a minute ago. She opened the door and left for the counselor's office. |