March 3, 2014 § Leave a comment
What’s worse than gnawing on saltines that should be light and crisp but are instead a stale, chalky wafer? You’re expecting that great crunch as you nibble away at it, but you’re unsatisfied with the dull response as your teeth sink into the soft cracker. God, what could be worse!?
1. Drinking six gin and tonics, blacking out, and waking up in your underwear with your head in a sink as your mother and cousin are trying to coax you into a bathtub to wash off all the vomit covering your chest and face.
2. Throwing up everywhere and all over everyone, including on your bed, the bathroom sink and floor, your cousin, and the bathtub you’re both sitting in.
3. Having to be forcibly held down as you’re reaching for a dull Venus razor all the while screaming “I just want to die” and meaning every word.
4. Spitting at your dad repeatedly as he’s trying to offer you your favorite beverage of Diet Coke that will surely make you feel better but you’re in so much emotional pain you don’t want to feel better and actually wouldn’t mind throwing up a few more times.
5. Apologizing hundreds of times to your mother as snot and tears and vomit run down your face.
6. Pretty sure I spit on my cousin too, which is especially bad because he was the one bravely holding me in the bathtub among the snot, tears, vomit, and screaming.
I know I should feel gross and embarrassed and ashamed, but what makes it all worse than stale saltines is that I mostly just feel relieved. I scream so much in my head, it was a huge release to finally scream out loud, to scream that I could kill myself and that I want to. It was a relief to finally show my family how bad things are in my head right now. I try so hard to stay in control, even though I was screaming at my family and thrashing around in a pool of my own vomit, I felt better. Now they know. Now I know they know. Now I know I don’t always have to be in control. They’ve got me. They’ll always take care of me. That’s an amazing feeling and an amazing realization. I truly feel loved, cherished, protected. Even from myself.
Also my bed still smells a bit like vomit. But maybe it’s just my hair.