My once olive skin was now a ghastly white. No wonder Mick had gone for Julie. You could see my ribs through my shirt and my teeth were turning a pale yellow. I cried. I cried harder than I thought I could. I had lost 35 pounds since that first fateful night. I just could not bear it anymore. The incessant need to look good, feel pretty. I wanted to die. I looked out the window and it creaked as I opened it. I could end it now. Save myself the misery. No. No. No. I will have control of my life this time. That sent me into another fit of tears. I looked at myself in the mirror. “I have a problem,” I said into the mirror. “You have a problem. You have a diesease. You are bulimic.” I sobbed even harder. I hauled my back pack onto my back, still bawling. I ran through the halls. Some tried to stop me, but i wouldn’t stop. Once I was passed my friends. I stepped in the conselors office.
“Sister Mary, I have a problem. I’m out of control. I need help.”