I cannot eat Asian food
or pork. Or rice.
I don't know why.
The other night I went to a hibachi grill with my friend and his mother and I thought that although I probably wouldn't eat anything I would be fine.
See.I thought I had gotten past the past.
I used to hold my breath when my mom picked up cashew and sweet and sour chicken. I barely breathed the whole way home. I covered up my straw so that the smell wouldn't infuse my soda pop. I state outside until I was positive that all of it was gone.
At the hibachi grill I got pasta. No rice. I had veggies.
They started out giving us salad. I could barely eat it but I was fine. I was fine.
Then they started cooking.
And in my head I heard it.
You won't leave this table until its gone. Stir fry.
My second family once made me feel so insuperior that I don't know how much worse it could get. I sat there.
He put the food on my playe and I cursed and I implored myself.
I ate one noodle.
But those voices. The flashbacks.
I am not good enough.
I cut my noodles onto more pieces than there are people in Japan.
I almost leaped from my seat. They were screaming. Why can't I just eat the ********* food.
Bathroom
Panic attack
Compose myself
Return
I'm fine but they know its a lie.
And so I am so sorry Karen.and I am so sorry everyone because I realized something that night.
I may not have your eating disorder. I don't feel fat and I don't throw up.
But that night I had an eating disorder. And I could barely stand the voices the pressure the memories the hate.
You are amazing. Every day feeling souch pain with food. You are my hero.
I forced myself to swallow one noodle but you make a choice daily to do so much more.
I think I have a price of the puzzle. I don't pretend to understand. But now I know.
Every tiny bite you take. Every time you say no to the toilet you are my hero. And when you fall. You are still my hero.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
I cannot eat Asian food
or pork. Or rice.
I don't know why.
The other night I went to a hibachi grill with my friend and his mother and I thought that although I probably wouldn't eat anything I would be fine.
See.I thought I had gotten past the past.
I used to hold my breath when my mom picked up cashew and sweet and sour chicken. I barely breathed the whole way home. I covered up my straw so that the smell wouldn't infuse my soda pop. I state outside until I was positive that all of it was gone.
At the hibachi grill I got pasta. No rice. I had veggies.
They started out giving us salad. I could barely eat it but I was fine. I was fine.
Then they started cooking.
And in my head I heard it.
You won't leave this table until its gone. Stir fry.
My second family once made me feel so insuperior that I don't know how much worse it could get. I sat there.
He put the food on my playe and I cursed and I implored myself.
I ate one noodle.
But those voices. The flashbacks.
I am not good enough.
I cut my noodles onto more pieces than there are people in Japan.
I almost leaped from my seat. They were screaming. Why can't I just eat the ********* food.
Bathroom
Panic attack
Compose myself
Return
I'm fine but they know its a lie.
And so I am so sorry Karen.and I am so sorry everyone because I realized something that night.
I may not have your eating disorder. I don't feel fat and I don't throw up.
But that night I had an eating disorder. And I could barely stand the voices the pressure the memories the hate.
You are amazing. Every day feeling souch pain with food. You are my hero.
I forced myself to swallow one noodle but you make a choice daily to do so much more.
I think I have a price of the puzzle. I don't pretend to understand. But now I know.
Every tiny bite you take. Every time you say no to the toilet you are my hero. And when you fall. You are still my hero.
I love you
