Ana

This creative writing piece is about Anorexia, if you know youll be triggered or this may affect you please do not read i wrote this to show that their are many factors within Anorexia.

Ana

A Beloved Friend

 

I witnessed them burry her, yet she continues to persist within the depths of my mind. She was an interesting individual, consistently disappearing for days at a time, returning struck by amnesia as if the previous events were simply…insubstantial. “23…48…75...” I could hear her voice ricocheting off the enclosed walls of my mind “He’s not good enough for you, forget about him.”

 

I was drowning in my own emotions, that the satisfactory feeling of emptiness began to consume me and every single drop of chilled, crisp blood that ran through my bulging veins. With Ana by my side I sensed the possession of control in the palm of my hand, clenching it before it disappeared out of my reach, I rejected the thought of losing control, not now, not ever.

 

The obsession, the demand to acquire the capability to control everything within a two-mile radius began to consume me. She picked and poked all day long until not even an ounce of self-esteem was left in my slowly shivering body. She tilted and tilted and tilted until the perspective I obtained of myself had tremendously shifted. I felt as if I was holding on by a thread, hanging off the Empire State building, cannot bear to hold on but cannot bear to let go.

 

My adolescent years were subjected to the terms and conditions I had evidently signed when establishing the pillars of our very friendship. My tears felt like a scorching fire as they streamed down my chilled face. I didn’t want this. I don’t want this, yet I still chose to leave Ana by my side. “23...48…75…He’s not good enough for you, forget about him.”

 

I struggled trying to resist the temptation, I loved him, I wanted him, and yet I could not have him. He tantalized me, the feeling of losing what I loved most devoured me inside-out, I was so close but so far. I experienced a gut-wrenching emptiness within the pit of my stomach, without him, I was empty. She directed me on how to feel so full when all I felt was emptiness. She showed me how to live with the pain of losing him, to have him so close but resist him.

 

The relationship developed between Ana and I was profound, so why do I feel as if the chains that once captivated me have been set loose? She did not support me she only criticised me, or what was left of me. Nothing but pounds and pounds of frail bones and flesh. It was crystal clear. I was no longer the one in control, she started to control me. “23...48…75…”

 

I began to realise; the death of Ana was a necessary change needed for me to progress throughout my life, I had buried her in the grave I was digging for myself. The craters aligning my throat that once restricted me from taking a breath, now persist in reminding me of what I had become. I was literally the skeleton in the closet. I asked myself “Will you choose starvation or will you choose salvation?” It did not matter. It does not matter. Whether he consisted of 23 calories, 48 calories or 75 calories. Anorexia Nervosa had obtained the best of me for the final time.  

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

You did very well with this tale. You made the character come alive and the story line felt real. I liked the thoughts leading to the strong ending. Thank you for sharing the amazing story.
Coyote