"twice" 2/9/2005
Twice
Mandi Nadel
Some nights if I became slightly nauseous from my birth control I would try to take advantage of the situation and would proceed to the bathroom. Sometimes I leaned over the toilet for 20 minutes at a time trying every thing to make myself throw up, except for jamming my finger down my throat. I would lean over the toilet and simply gag, when that didn’t work I would look at the floor and think about how dirty it was and how disgusted I was with myself. When that didn’t work I would think about how disgusting the toilet bowl was and I would lift up the seat in search of urine stains to gross me out, t I would end up cleaning the toilet bowl and leaving the foamy cleaner for a moment and I would try to imagine it was someone’s frothed warm piss. When this failed I flushed the toilet and continued to try other methods, imagining licking the bottom of my shoe, smelling my feet, imagining licking my feet, maybe even drinking the cleaner- that would make me throw up for sure. When all else failed I always ended up tickling the back of my throat with my toothbrush. I always pulled it away too soon, afraid to vomit on it and always gave myself too much recovery time between attempts. I wished my gag reflexes were as strong as they needed to be to get the job done, but it always took several tries.
When I finally threw up, the amount was pitiful, it never seemed worth all the time for what little vomit I could produce. I would try more times after that, giving myself too much recovery time and by then I figured it was too much work to go through with again just to vomit a second time. “if I never would’ve puked in the first place I wouldn’t have lost that bite of cucumber” and I called it a night.
“Tomorrow I’ll drink lots of coffee” I would tell myself, “or maybe I’ll take some laxatives”
For some reason I always ended up trying to start my day right. I would eat a bowl of fiber cereal with soy milk. I would pack a healthy lunch. However, somewhere between my apartment and the university, my lunch would disappear. An hour later I would cruise the cafeteria in search of a light, healthy snack. I would end up buying cookies or chips claiming that I had been so good earlier in the day, a little treat couldn’t hurt. Then it became “those cookies were so good… what If they stop selling them tomorrow?” then “I’m really craving pizza, oh what the hell, I’ll have it now, skip dinner later, and I’ll really crack down on the diet tomorrow”.
Free food was my weakness. There was plenty of it at my University, they were always promoting something. Even if I was spilling food out my pores I would still go for a free handful of Doritos or a few cupcakes and I would even consider filling out surveys to get free food, despite a class lecture about to begin. It was a compulsion more than a hunger or defiance or a need to store for later. I HAD to eat whenever possible. Then I was inclined to waltz in to a Starbucks and order a soy chai latte and a lemon pound cake and as a replacement for my dinner, a black and white cookie couldn’t hurt either claiming “that other replacement was a fluke… this is my real dinner”.
I was so weak. My character was seriously hindered by my inability to resist food. I never skipped a meal, I always had a reason to snack and every time I got home the first room I walked in to was the kitchen. I always claimed I could never eat past 6:30, but sure enough at 10:30 I would start inhaling anything in my pantry I could find. A few scoops of peanut butter, some chips, a fruit, some yogurt. One time I felts so guilty about snacking on cheesecake that I took it out of the freezer, thawed it, and only ate the crust and one bite of the creamy filling so that I wouldn’t intake the entire 500 calories.
Mandi Nadel
Some nights if I became slightly nauseous from my birth control I would try to take advantage of the situation and would proceed to the bathroom. Sometimes I leaned over the toilet for 20 minutes at a time trying every thing to make myself throw up, except for jamming my finger down my throat. I would lean over the toilet and simply gag, when that didn’t work I would look at the floor and think about how dirty it was and how disgusted I was with myself. When that didn’t work I would think about how disgusting the toilet bowl was and I would lift up the seat in search of urine stains to gross me out, t I would end up cleaning the toilet bowl and leaving the foamy cleaner for a moment and I would try to imagine it was someone’s frothed warm piss. When this failed I flushed the toilet and continued to try other methods, imagining licking the bottom of my shoe, smelling my feet, imagining licking my feet, maybe even drinking the cleaner- that would make me throw up for sure. When all else failed I always ended up tickling the back of my throat with my toothbrush. I always pulled it away too soon, afraid to vomit on it and always gave myself too much recovery time between attempts. I wished my gag reflexes were as strong as they needed to be to get the job done, but it always took several tries.
When I finally threw up, the amount was pitiful, it never seemed worth all the time for what little vomit I could produce. I would try more times after that, giving myself too much recovery time and by then I figured it was too much work to go through with again just to vomit a second time. “if I never would’ve puked in the first place I wouldn’t have lost that bite of cucumber” and I called it a night.
“Tomorrow I’ll drink lots of coffee” I would tell myself, “or maybe I’ll take some laxatives”
For some reason I always ended up trying to start my day right. I would eat a bowl of fiber cereal with soy milk. I would pack a healthy lunch. However, somewhere between my apartment and the university, my lunch would disappear. An hour later I would cruise the cafeteria in search of a light, healthy snack. I would end up buying cookies or chips claiming that I had been so good earlier in the day, a little treat couldn’t hurt. Then it became “those cookies were so good… what If they stop selling them tomorrow?” then “I’m really craving pizza, oh what the hell, I’ll have it now, skip dinner later, and I’ll really crack down on the diet tomorrow”.
Free food was my weakness. There was plenty of it at my University, they were always promoting something. Even if I was spilling food out my pores I would still go for a free handful of Doritos or a few cupcakes and I would even consider filling out surveys to get free food, despite a class lecture about to begin. It was a compulsion more than a hunger or defiance or a need to store for later. I HAD to eat whenever possible. Then I was inclined to waltz in to a Starbucks and order a soy chai latte and a lemon pound cake and as a replacement for my dinner, a black and white cookie couldn’t hurt either claiming “that other replacement was a fluke… this is my real dinner”.
I was so weak. My character was seriously hindered by my inability to resist food. I never skipped a meal, I always had a reason to snack and every time I got home the first room I walked in to was the kitchen. I always claimed I could never eat past 6:30, but sure enough at 10:30 I would start inhaling anything in my pantry I could find. A few scoops of peanut butter, some chips, a fruit, some yogurt. One time I felts so guilty about snacking on cheesecake that I took it out of the freezer, thawed it, and only ate the crust and one bite of the creamy filling so that I wouldn’t intake the entire 500 calories.