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Hidden Secrecies

by

Cinnamon Brown

Once again I am on the floor kneeling to my porcelain god. Puking my guts out, one would think that I was pregnant if they stood on the other side of the bathroom door. However, the act that is currently taking place is far more complex than skipping a day of the pill. I am bulimic, yes a closet purge and gurger. It is my best kept secret, I live my life happily as a wife and mother, when no one is around I eat mass quantities of food and when I can no longer feel my face or my body I throw it all back up. I know it is a sad story, but everyone has an addiction and mine is food.

Growing up I was always a "healthy" girl as my mother called it. What my mother didn't realize was a 13 year old tipping the scales at 220 pounds was far from healthy. My family didn't see things the way I did all I saw was a fat girl that got teased at school for having to wear clothes from the ladies section instead of juniors. It was at that point that I realized that I had to do something. My first purging experience happened when I was in 8th grade. There was a boy that I liked. His name is not important nor is it relevant, any way this boy called me a whale when I asked him if he wanted to hang out with me after school. This hurt me so bad. I cried all the way home from school that day. Once at home I wanted to end my life. I didn't know where to find comfort but I knew that when I ate I was at peace. I didn't think about the drama in my life all I thought about was the food. The smell, flavor, texture and sometimes I would go as far as wondering exactly how every ingredient was made. Instead of jumping out of my fourth floor window. I dived into the fridge eating everything in site. It wasn't until I had eaten an entire jar of peanut butter that I realized what that boy had said about me was true. I was a fat whale, the thought of that statement and the reality that I believed was in it forced me into guilt. Before I knew it I was in the bathroom on the floor with two fingers down my throat. That was the beginning of my battle with Bulimia.

As the years went on I eventually went through other drastic measures to lose weight. I went days without eating. But even starvation takes discipline and with all the southern soul going on in my house it was hard to resist. I went on a "diet" when I was 14. I remember my daddy telling me at the dinner table one night "fish and greens are good for you". My father was right they were minus the bacon in the greens and the heavily salted deep fried batter. My parents meant well they didn't know any better. It is a part of African American heritage and culture to eat heart meals. I on the other hand did not know how to do so in moderation. So every time these meals were presented to me I indulged to the point of pure gluttony. Now every morning I get up and like a crack addict that needs a hit. I go to my kitchen and create a breakfast that consists of 4 eggs 5 pieces of toast sausage, bacon, and coffee. After I eat the food without even tasting it. I go to my god and bow. I have done this for so long that I do not have to stick my fingers down my throat. I just contract the muscles in my stomach and throat and out comes breakfast. My eyes tear up and my throat hurts after each hurl, but i endure the discomfort. I keep going until my regurgitation is clear. I then brush my teeth and go on with my day. I always think maybe I should get some help. The problem is black America think that eating disorders are a white issue. If only people saw past race.

To Be Continued.........

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