FML

I feel the need to Purge.

BAD.

I just inhaled an ENTIRE bag of Strawberry Starbursts.

An E.N.T.I.R.E. Bag!?

I HATE myself for NOT feeling OR being IN control around “Forbidden Foods”.

But, the Monster WITHIN needed to be fed.

But NOW?

I have to get it out.

I feel full.

TOO full.

Of Sugar.

Calories.

It’s sticky sweetness is threatening to swallow me whole.

My deterrent?

A Husband’s prying eyes.

His Super Sonic hearing.

I’m so desperate I contemplate puking into the Bathroom sink, as I’m brushing my teeth for Bed.

The tap water flows loudly, creating the perfect opportunity.

It’s now or never.

NEVER is NOT an option.

So, it’s NOW.

Bile begins to rise into my throat.

It burns my nose.

My eyes begin to water.

I quickly bend over, squeeze my stomach, and expertly thrust 2 fingers as far down my throat as I dare, without sounding the Alarm to my Husband.

Loud retching is so NOT cool.

A thick Pink Taffy-like goo begins to swirl down the drain.

Mixing with my Toothpaste, creating an almost iridescent pink Sea Foam.

I begin to smile slyly,

As I wipe the pink goo from the corners of my mouth.

Rinse.

Brush.

Rinse.

I closely inspect my Teeth in the Mirror.

I’ve got quite a few MISSING from this discusting fucking Habit.

Yes, a Habit.

An Addiction.

NOT only to Food, but to also getting RID of it.

Quickly.

Efficiently.

Cleanly.

It has ALMOST become a very alluring and deceitful Art form.

Discreet.

Quiet.

Calm.

I despise the fact that I have fallen “head-over-heels” into a Love Affair that is slowly and silently killing me from within.

What can I say?

I enjoy a candid Lover.

It is ALMOST worth the pain and heartache.