Work in Progress

BINGEING HELL

There is this thing inside me
It will not shut up
It is in my head
I picture it as a lever
I picture it tipping
A click into place
A flow of noise
Something bubbling downstream
And the word, “Destroy.”

Destroy.  Destroy what?
Not myself.  Destroy
Is not referring to the actual food
I shove into my mouth and mindlessly devour.
It is referring to the lever itself.

It will not shut up
This click into place
I will destroy the flow
I will stop its heartbeat
Pull out all eight legs if I have to
Beat it and beat it
It may still be alive even if it has
A gash in its body
Beat it some more.
Destroy.
Until the lever shuts up.

Beat it some more
I was way too full
Five bites ago
Take three more bites
Oh my god
Tell it to stop
In another two seconds
I’m going to pass out again.
***********

I wrote this…just now…jotted it down just so that I will have something to bring into therapy tomorrow in response to my T’s statement, “You do not want to give up your ED.”  It is true that I do not want to give up thinness.  But I have been living in sheer terror of this thing called binge for fucking 32 years.  It is hell on earth and I think this poem states this clearly.  I went into therapy and begged and begged for help to get rid of binge 32 years ago.  This is why I started up with the Imipramine immediately last Tuesday night as soon as I saw that there was a problem.  For her to state that I do not want to give up bingeing?  Huh?  She is so full of bullshit.  I was livid when she said that.  This was most of our screaming argument in a nutshell.

I think I said that the Imipramine had started working…well, I was a bit mistaken…it was kinda soon, anyway.  It’s been a while now and I have not binged, so keeping my fingers crossed.  We’ll see.  My body is so full of food crap.  It is bad, bad, bad.  One day…I have really lost track of all the days now, they are all a big blur and there were so many days, all these days that I just lay in bed and lay in bed…well, one day, I lay down and slept, then I would become aware that I was not sleeping but just lying there, and my stomach would get very painful, not a sharp pain but kind of this wicked uncomfortable feeling.  It was stretched to the limit and very hard and huge all day long.  It didn’t shrink at all over the course of the day.  I’d sit up on the side of the bed and wait maybe thirty seconds, and let out this massive ugly-tasting belch.  Then I’d feel a little better.  I’d stand up and go get water to drink, go pee.  Every time I went to pee, I’d poop, too, gigantic amounts of poop.  After doing that, I’d feel better, too.  Then back to sleep and the same thing, over and over.  This was probably a two-hour cycle throughout the day, sometimes only a half hour, though.  Quite often, I’d burp up actual food material, partially-digested bits of food, that is.  I swallowed it back down, not really knowing what else to do.  That was my day.  I was in a complete daze, a lot of bad pain and a headache, very, very sleepy, too, like I was drugged.

I still have a huge stomach and it feels full of food, but by all means it is not stretched to the limit anymore.  My intestines, too, feel overloaded with crap. It will take ages for my body to recover.  I saw my face in the mirror and it is unrecognizable.  Just disgusting.

I plan to cancel the appointment with my primary care doctor on Wednesday.  I do not want to be humiliated.  She can see me some other time.  If my T doesn’t like this and doesn’t respect how I feel, she can just go to hell.

Feedback and comments welcome!