She has a cup of ice and allows her mother to pour bottled water over it; of course, before she drinks she checks the label for all the evil calories that could be lurking in a bottle of purified water.
It's okay to drink because it's so cold that processing it will burn more calories; these are the diet tricks and tips we all know.
Her mother drinks a regular drink from a regular cardboard cup - I know the taste of the emptiness of that ice water. When she stares over at me there is revulsion. I'm not fat, but I have breasts. I have substance. My hair is thick and shiny. I too drink coffee made with milk and containing sugar.
I'm grateful that she is, at least, drinking water. She even refills her glass by herself- well, sometimes it's better the devil you know. In the weight of the empty bottle I feel her fatigue.
I don't know the words to break through this mindset; I understand the trigger point, the need for control which spirals out of control. These are the martyrs to our excess, the conspicuous protesters.
I don't understand the sicknesses of our society.
2 weeks ago
5 comments:
Ugh, me either!
The world can seem very wrong some days, can't it?
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My cousin has been really sick with anorexia, and it can be so hard to reach through the layers of psychological damage to the person underneath.
Never understood why people do this to themselves. I know it seems right to them, but it must be so hard for the people who love them.
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