By Category: Eating Disorders
“Run into the bathroom, turn on the fans, the shower, the tap in the sink, click up the toilet seat, swig both sodas, vomit. And vomit some more until your knees are too weak. When you stand up, they'll buckle, and you'll swing to the edge of the sink, holding on for dear life. Dear life my ass. By November, you wish you were dead. You want nothing more. Every day, every fucking day, you run up the steps of the house, breathing hard, swing open the cupboards, thinking: You pitiful little bitch. Fucking cow. Greedy pig. All day, your stomach pinches and spits up its bile. You sway when you walk. You begin to get cold again.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“That paradox would begin to run my life: to know that what you are doing is hurting you, maybe killing you, and to be afraid of that fact--but to cling to the idea that this will save you, it will, in the end, make things okay.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“The anoretic operates under the astounding illusion that she can escape the flesh, and, by association, the realm of emotions.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“There is a self-perpetuating belief that one simply cannot help it, and this is very dangerous. It becomes an identity in and of itself. It becomes its own religion, and you wait for salvation, and you wait, and wait, and wait, and do not save yourself. If you saved yourself, and did not wait for salvation, you'd be self-sufficient. How dull.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“There is never a sudden revelation, a complete and tidy explanation for why it happened, or why it ends, or why or who you are. You want one and I want one, but there isn't one. It comes in bits and pieces, and you stitch them together wherever they fit, and when you are done you hold yourself up, and still there are holes and you are a rag doll, invented, imperfect. And yet you are all that you have, so you must be enough. There is no other way.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“We turn skeletons into goddesses and look to them as if they might teach us how not to need.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“While I waited I counted my bones. They were all still there. Then I thought, my God. I straightened up, held the cold brick wall while the dizziness came in waves and washed away. I walked very slowly inside, placing my feet carefully on the floor. I went to the desk and signed myself in.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all the time, and you can't remember what it was like before. People take the feeling of full for granted. They take for granted the feeling of steadiness, of hands that do not shake, heads that do not ache, throats not raw with bile and small rips of fingernails forced to haste to the gag spot. Stomachs that do not begin to wake up in the night, calves and thighs knotting in muscles that are beginning to eat away at themselves. they may or may not be awakened at night by their own inexplicable sobs.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“You never come back, not all the way. Always there is an odd distance between you and the people you love and the people you meet, a barrier thin as the glass of a mirror, you never come all the way out of the mirror; you stand, for the rest of your life, with one foot in this world and no one in another, where everything is upside down and backward and sad.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
~
“I eat too much to die
and not enough to stay alive.
I'm sitting in the middle
Waiting.”
-4st. 7lbs., Manic Street Preachers
~
“Kate and Kristin and kit kat.
All things I like looking at.
Too weak to fuss, too weak to die.
Choice is skeletal in everybody's life.
I choose, my choice, I starve to frenzy.
Hunger soon passes and sickness soon tires.
Legs bend, stockinged I am twiggy.
And I don't mind the horror that surrounds me.
Self- worth scatters, self esteem's a bore.
I long since moved to a higher plateau.
This discipline's so rare so please applaud.
Just look at the fat scum who pamper me.
Yeh 4st 7, an epilogue of youth.
Such beautiful dignity in self-abuse.
I've finally come to understand life.
Through staring blankly at my navel.”
-4st. 7lbs., Manic Street Preachers
~
“Please die Ana
For as long as you're here we're not.”
-Ana's Song, Silverchair
~
“..I gorged myself... I forced spoonful after spoonful down my throat..later.. sat hunched.. retching back into the ice cream container.... wondering why it was eating something good could make me feel so terrible, while vomiting something terrible could make me feel so good.”
-The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan
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