Skeletal-Chic
April 13th, 2010, 01:29 PM
This monologue was written as part of a study I was doing for my Drama GCSE about Image so I thought I might post it here and see what ya'll thought :) I might make a vid of me doing it if people want :P
Bulimia Nervosa… I wouldn’t say I was nervous… though maybe a bit enthusiastic. I didn’t want to eat. But Mummy made me. Do you hear me Mummy? I never wanted to eat.
I would sit and look at the table and all the many plates of food. Prim and proper. I’d smile, my face, a perfect mask.
And I would it and look at the many plates of food, the many poisons that were infecting me. Making me sick, ugly, fat.
I never wanted to eat it.
I remember typing away at my keyboard. I had been locked in my room. Mummy’s little way of punishing me for the crime of self-starvation. So, locked my bedroom I saw the world as a web of stick women, of beauty and plastic.
Buy new Max-Factor makeup! It will take years off your face! Try new food supplements, guaranteed to help you drop a dress-size! My tested food regime will help you become the gorgeous babe you want to be!
But then I found other things amongst the adverts. Articles, Newspapers, Documents. All about…Bulimia. I could beat Mummy. I would eat and eat then purge myself of the poisons. I would make myself pretty.
Bulimia Nervosa. I was never nervous, just a little passionate.
I remember it so clearly, holding my hair above the basin.
My fingers tiptoeing along my tongue to the back of my throat. And then up it came…. Making me pretty again…
I never wanted to eat. But I guess I have to, now that I’m fed through a straw. In my arm, in my wrist, in my vein. I remember the stench of it on my hair, the feel of it on my cheek. My arms would go numb and I would collapse. I would just lie there on the bathroom floor. And that’s how Mummy found me. I wasn’t pretty then.
I never wanted to eat. But I guess I have to, and I wanted to throw it all up, but I can’t…now that I’m fed through a straw.
Bulimia Nervosa. I was never nervous, but I was always… obsessed
Bulimia Nervosa… I wouldn’t say I was nervous… though maybe a bit enthusiastic. I didn’t want to eat. But Mummy made me. Do you hear me Mummy? I never wanted to eat.
I would sit and look at the table and all the many plates of food. Prim and proper. I’d smile, my face, a perfect mask.
And I would it and look at the many plates of food, the many poisons that were infecting me. Making me sick, ugly, fat.
I never wanted to eat it.
I remember typing away at my keyboard. I had been locked in my room. Mummy’s little way of punishing me for the crime of self-starvation. So, locked my bedroom I saw the world as a web of stick women, of beauty and plastic.
Buy new Max-Factor makeup! It will take years off your face! Try new food supplements, guaranteed to help you drop a dress-size! My tested food regime will help you become the gorgeous babe you want to be!
But then I found other things amongst the adverts. Articles, Newspapers, Documents. All about…Bulimia. I could beat Mummy. I would eat and eat then purge myself of the poisons. I would make myself pretty.
Bulimia Nervosa. I was never nervous, just a little passionate.
I remember it so clearly, holding my hair above the basin.
My fingers tiptoeing along my tongue to the back of my throat. And then up it came…. Making me pretty again…
I never wanted to eat. But I guess I have to, now that I’m fed through a straw. In my arm, in my wrist, in my vein. I remember the stench of it on my hair, the feel of it on my cheek. My arms would go numb and I would collapse. I would just lie there on the bathroom floor. And that’s how Mummy found me. I wasn’t pretty then.
I never wanted to eat. But I guess I have to, and I wanted to throw it all up, but I can’t…now that I’m fed through a straw.
Bulimia Nervosa. I was never nervous, but I was always… obsessed