Shower Scenes of a Bulimic

Having an addiction makes you do horrible things. Like, think of the most disgusting situation you’ve ever been in, and imagine you willingly put yourself there.

My roommate leaves food everywhere- on the tables, open in her food barrel, half eaten on the floor. There was a box of store-bought cupcakes sitting open on the couch. I stared at them for a few minutes. The icing was white and swirled, coming to a snow peak tip over the dark chocolate world underneath. I wanted to leave them, but I could already taste the fresh sugar on my tongue and nothing would do me any good but to stuff them in my mouth.

I ate them all, and they weren’t mine.

My stomach felt weak  and made weird growly sounds. I stepped into the shower, taking out the drain filter in order to get all the food down there as quick as possible.

Something in the vomit wasn’t right, though. The icing came up in clumps, as usual, but it wouldn’t go down. Water was bubbling up from the pipes, separating the icing into tiny, obvious pieces that were being thrown all around the shower. My feet were coated in them, and I felt the strange smooth squish under my toes.

I crouched down and reached into the drain to see what was stopping the food from disappearing. My fingers scratched the slimy innards of the pipe, catching black sludge under my fingernails. Who knew what was in that thing, but I had to get it out or else everyone would know my secret.

I climbed out of the shower, naked and dripping, to grab bunches of toilet paper. I tried to mop up the mess I’d created but icing is hard to pick up. Meanwhile my feet were still squishing.

I kept the water flowing and eventually the drain started working again. I closed my eyes and let the hot water wash over my face and head, as if I could forget everything bad by just relaxing.