sitting on the bathroom floor.

Yeah, I know. 

You didn't want to have to eat that much.
You'll only do it one more time.
You're too fat to have an eating disorder.

Yeah, I know.

And yet, you find yourself here again.
Sitting on the bathroom floor,
your head a little closer to the toilet than healthy people would be comfortable with
your heart beaten and bruised so many times that you're numb
your stomach recently emptied of every last calorie you just consumed.
your hands ... the feeling of the slime.

Yeah, I know.

I know what it's like.
I'm right there with you.

But people don't hold recovery meetings on the bathroom floor.
People don't move forward by making excuses.

You don't want to beat it.
You're still too fat.
You'll stop in a few pounds.
You're not doing anything wrong.
You refuse to fight.

Yeah, I know.

I'm right there with you.

But we're going to get our sorry selves out of this mess...
We're going to find ourselves standing up one day,
out of the slime of our own vomit
and free of the shame and the fear.

Because, even if no one else understands,

I do.

I'm right there with you.

The End

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