So here I am again, she says to herself, finger down her throat, head over the porcelain bowl. How much of it can I get rid of- how many calories  can i be forgiven of. That was all she wanted, to be forgiven. To forgive herself. To let go of the pain. Oh but how much more pain did she cause- slamming into her esophagus, gagging, pushing air out when nothing else would come up. Fuck, is this it? There had to be more, more to life, more than this mundane routine of hating herself-looking in the mirror and wanting it all different. She ran the shower so no one would hear at least she hopes although part of her wanted someone to hear, someone to save her from this self destruction. No, no no, don’t do that, then who will have control?She pushed for more. Little bits of the nights dinner came up- little piece of guilt, of fear, of shame There, that should do. She ra her pointer and middle finger under the faucet and wiped her pink lips clean- her throat was sore and bleeding, some sick part of her liked the pain. she deserved it. A series of exercises was to follow. 40 squats followed by jumping jacks and sit ups- as if the purge wasn’t enough- it was never enough. Exhausted, she finally allowed herself to enter the warm water of the shower he had been running, attempting to wash away the guilt and pain- impossible. It was more present now than ever. A cycle so gripping- one unable to be broken. If only- just surrender. She cried briefly. Feelings not allowed, so she stopped after only a few tears. Stop, she told herself .You do it to yourself. She turned off the water and wrapped in a towel. The brief moments she allowed herself comfort felt strange but at least she could do a few good things for herself- for years she didn’t even think she deserved a shower. Lets do better tomorrow she promised herself. One yet to be fulfilled. Secretly she hoped the end was near.