Time To Wipe Your Soul Clean
So this is going to be a new fanfic I'm starting if I get the right reaction, meaning I'm unsure of this idea... The topic is based around Dougie struggling with cutting and a girl called Sophie becoming bulimic. This is going to be written of my own experiences and it is very personal to me. It deals with Bulimia and cutting so if this is a touchy subject for you then I won't be offended if you wish to stop reading on. I've wanted to tell the world my story for a while now and I thought to myself what better way to do it than with McFLY involved?
P.S the name of this story comes from the lyrics 'Don't Wake Me Up' by McFLY.
Twisted And Decayed
~Sophie~
Why on earth do I keep doing this to myself over and over again? Because it feels good. That's why, there's no denying it. When I eat, I can feel the food slurp around in the pit of my stomach, it weighing me down. The only way for me to feel better, to get on with my day is to get rid of that feeling. There's only one way you can do this. People say it's disgusting, that the girls and boys that do it are stupid and shallow. It's not all about the way we look, that's not what drives us to doing it. It's the voices, it's the feelings and it's the pain. Every time I look at a bar of chocolate or a portion of greasy chips there's a voice screaming at me; your already fat, you don't need it, you don't need to become even fatter. You're ugly and fat enough as it is. Yes, fat. You're fat. Fat, fat, fat, fat! Bringing my food back up is like when you drink a can of fizzy juice, and the only way to get away that lumpy, burny feeling in your throat is to burp. That's like with me and eating. It's like the food gets lodged in my throat, and the only way to release the discomfort is to bring it back up. Every time I make myself sick, I sit back on my hunches, and just have a moment, grinning away to myself. I don't even know why. I had always been one of those people who insulted anorexic or bulimic people. I sneered and said 'pathetic'. That's what they were to me, pathetic. I used to think it about all the skinny girls running around the catwalk, all the frail girls walking past me uptown. Every one of them was shallow, pathetic and disgusting. Don't think those things. Never, ever think those things when you see a girl. You may think you know someone, you might think you know every single detail about someone. You probably think you could go around categorising everyone, just going along a line pointing at them, ticking them off. It ain't like that. Everyone's human but no one is programmed to think or act the same way. Do you even know what it's like to look in the mirror and yet again be unsatisfied even after days of fasting? The voices won't go away until your lunch is sitting staring at you from the toilet bowl.
The best thing about bulimia is that it's silent.
No one can see it.
No one can hear it.
Isn't it a beautiful thing? It can kill away a person and no one would ever have suspected anything.
Don't judge me, this is my story.
So, please review, tell me what you think of it, this was just the 'prologue'. If I get enough feedback then I'll carry this on. Of course the story isn't going to be written like the above; it will be in first person with speech and stuff. I'm a little nervous about posting this as this it is extremely personal to me. Please tell me if you are affected, and don't be afraid to drop me a little pm:) please R+R xx