What if we lived our lives backwards? We’d be old and quietly become new again, and able to walk. Things would only get better and better.
Instead of eating we would extract food from our mouths with a fork and put it back on the plate, good as new.
Instead of throwing up it would all go back in until a few minutes later when we’d just extract it again.
And we’d get fatter and skinnier over and over again, just like we’re doing now. We’d care and not care, be happy and hate ourselves, until we get to the last day, the day when it all started. Our muscles would start off strong and ache more and more as we become less toned. We’d get shorter and penniless except for an allowance our parents take from us every so often.
Friends would disappear. The world would become simpler again.
At the end of it all, binging and purging is just a long cycle of zeros. I don’t gain or lose any weight in the long run. I don’t live my life any more or less.
If life got better, it wasn’t because of how much my stomach stuck out.
I see an endless vision of me leaning over the toilet to let the purge back into me, taking food from my mouth, and going about my backwards life with utmost happiness.
This is pointless.