I wake up itchy from the fleece blanket lying on top of me. I remove it to see my legs emerging from too-short shorts. And I try and raise my head but I cannot do so at first. I remember what happened last night and my head is still recovering.
I slowly get up and look at myself in the mirror--spaghetti strap tank top and short shorts--and then I turn to look at the side. I tell myself that I don't care about my weight and I don't. But I'm curious to the side view of me, how big am I? The lights, off, in the room don't do anything but make it harder for me to want to wake up. And they cause shadows as I try to gauge my weight.
I toussle my hair and stare at myself in the mirror. I don't know why I do this or for what reason because there has not been once that I've only seen positives. Many times, I see negatives only. I see the disgusting pimply face of mine, the bags under my eyes, small feet....the list goes on.
I sit at breakfast, one leg hanging down as I sit on a wood chair, the other I hold up against my side, as it rests on the chair at a forty-five degree angle against the left side of my body. And then I see it, or, should I say *them*? I see the numbers of bruises on my body increase and what's worse is that I don't remember what happened or how or when I got them.
These bruises go away and then more appear. I wake up with more bruises every day. And I don't know what happened.
The headaches I can explain. I remember what happened. But the bruising is all a blur.
But I just bruise my arms and legs. All over.