The Chant

Soo..... My anorexia from last year is steadily coming back...
Last night, I made it through dinner because my grandmother was sitting right next to me. When she went to her cello concert though, everything went south. She had left a piece of banana creme pie in the refrigerator for me to eat if I wanted a snack, so I got it out, grabbed a fork, stabbed a piece of it off, then placed the bite in my mouth... And immediately wanted to spit it back out.
My mind seemed to start chanting: You're fat. You're going to be fat. You're lazy and there's no way in hell that you are going to lose weight if you eat this, and you know you need to lose weight. Oh my god. You're so fat! You're fat, you're fat, you're fat, you're fat....
So then I went upstairs to my grandmother's walk/run machine thingy that she uses whenever she goes on a diet spree. I used that for about two hours, even when my stomach got cramps and my legs felt like jelly, I continued.
You're fat, you're fat, you're fat, you're fat...
You're fat, you're fat, you're fat, you're fat...
You're fat, you're fat, you're fat, you're fat...
The words wouldn't leave. They filled the empty space with such pressure, and such hatred, and I couldn't get rid of it...
When I finally figured that I should stop, I stepped off of the machine and fell. I could barely stand because I had worked so hard, probably more than I ever had ~ ever.
You're fat, you're fat, you're fat, you're fat...
You're fat, you're fat, you're fat, you're fat...
You're fat, you're fat, you're fat, you're fat...
The chant continued.
I began randomly throwing out swear words at myself so that I could try ignoring my own chant.
It's still running through my head, fifteen hours later.
Why....