7:51a.m, I’m partially dehydrated from the 5 Corona Lights I binged on the night before as I watched an excellent
1 Season Series.
*When I use the word ‘Binge,’ I refer to the Caloric Intake of the empty energy beer brings.
As my body absorbed 24 ounces of Canadian Water, overly processed Lemonade, I sat on my tattered blue bath mat under a steam shower.
I closed my eyes, sprayed a few elegant moments of Lavender Oil, and let my recollection of what once was a morning ritual for me during a time of personal greatness.
My high school alarm clock rings in my university dorm room.
I wake up with a secret melancholy, but I’m ready to organize myself to be the distinguished student that I was becoming.
First, I make my bed. Tie-dye sheets and matching comforter with an extra Wolf pillow design for back support during homework sessions and decoration.
I complete my 10 minute session of 500 Crunches, Stretches, and Yoga.
I prepare my instant Cappuccino in my Microfridge, as I look at my closet.
No roommate to share space with.
I quietly make my way to the girl’s wing bathroom. I can only hear one other student, must be a 8:00a.m Class.
I wash my face thoroughly.
Looking at myself with disgust.
I turn on CNN, no volume, and put on my vice, Music.
Bands like Cold, Incubus, or Chevelle would be on my a.m rotation.
I plan my outfit carefully as I dress my face with make-up.
I turn everything off, grab my bookbag, and head for the elevators.
This is a process in itself.
I live on the 10th Floor, and there are 18 Floors in my Dorm (that is now sadly defunct).
I pass many faces I recognize, as I open myself to the World and shut down my depression.
(Anorexia Nervosa Relapse. I fell down to 120 pounds. I’m 68.5 Inches Tall. Do the BMI Math on your own).
I’m beginning to fall asleep as I hear my cat calling to me.
I sit up, noticing cob webs in the upper right corner of the exiting door.
I am angry at and with myself.
I spent so much time being perfect, even when no one was looking.
I am aware of the ED & Ritual thing, but I gave myself away for six semesters.
Maybe, this is why now, I live among sporadic disasters in my duplex.
The only ceremonies I practice today are stressing about my current Employment situation, Recycling, and taking care of my animals.
Exhausted from alcohol and no time, I am ready to go back to sleep.
(You should see my bed now.
Sheets are ripped, bed unmade, and dog hair pollution).
Just Maybe I was at my best then because I never drank during the week, I rarely ate, and I read over 1,000 pages of literature a week.
Discipline as a memory is quite harrowing.
August 25, 2003. My Dorm Room Door decorated for my Twenty-Third Birthday, and my last Birthday as an Undergrad.