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I did this to myself

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I wake to the sound of my alarm clock buzzing and I step out of bed, feeling light-headed and slightly dizzy. I rub my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up a little and when my hand slowly glides down my cheek, its stops to an abrupt holt when it reaches the bone, jutting out of my skin. I walk to the mirror slowly and stand inches away, beginning to analyse myself as I do so many times each day. I can find fault with every single thing about myself. I touch my head, wincing at the wispy hair slipping through my fingers. My skin is a sickly white with a green tinge and my blue eyes are lifeless and are sunken deep into my skin, with black marks underneath. My lips are trembling because I am about to cry. I should be used to this. It’s me. But I can’t help but think ‘who is this emaciated, disgusting looking girl I see before me in the mirror?’ My collar bone is poking sharply out of my far too big pyjama top and my arms are like twigs, so, so weak. My legs are long and thin and always feel as if they will collapse at any moment. One of these moments is now. I sit down on my bed and hug my frail body, bringing my knees up to my chest. I brush my teeth and splash water over my face. No improvement. I cake myself in make-up in an effort to disguise my tired face. Still no improvement. I look like a clown but at least it’s better than looking like me. Ill. I dress myself in a tight top and tight jeans but even they are too baggy for my abnormally thin frame. I take one last look in the mirror. ‘You’ve got to change yourself’ I whisper to my reflection. I cannot believe I used to see rolls of fat on my body when I looked in the mirror. I didn’t listen to my friends and family who had told me I’d lost weight. I'd thought I had gained weight. I look hideous, a skeletal girl whose beauty has been stripped away from her. But there’s no one else to blame. I did this to myself.




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Falla said...
Aug. 19, 2012 at 11:57 am:
It bothers me that, at this time, this is the portrayal of an eating disordered person. Though it displays well written imagery, it furthers the stereotype that you must be emaciated, almost dead, to need help. Because I do not look like the typical anorexic girl presented here, my own parents look past my need for help and treatment, and I am forced to go about it on my own. This is a weak description of what it is truly like to be "living" with an eating disorder. 
 
ABazza replied...
Aug. 20, 2012 at 2:21 pm :
I didn't write this from personal experiences, so I do not have any insight to what it's like but I'm sorry if the article was offensive and I hope you get better. :)
 
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Anna B. said...
Aug. 19, 2012 at 10:59 am:
thanks, I read your 'She is a dancer' piece and it's really good and very well worded. Could you give me some examples of some of my weak word choices so that I can work on it for future articles? 
 
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KnitsandPurls said...
Aug. 19, 2012 at 8:59 am:
Good subject choice, you handled it well. There were several instances of weak wordchioce, however. That is what you should take a look at. (If you want, take a peek at my short story "She is a Dancer"
 
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IttyBittyThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Aug. 18, 2012 at 2:48 pm:
This is one of those articles where, I can't say that I Iove it because it's sad and I can't say that I hate it because that would be a lie. So I rate it four stars. But it should be five. Nice Job!
 
ABazza replied...
Aug. 20, 2012 at 2:18 pm :
thanks, I'll read some of your work :)
 
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