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I Keep Thinking That If I Could Just Unzip My Skin, Step Out Of This Body, Then I Would See Who I Really Am.“ She Nods Her Head Slowly. „what Do You Think You‘d Look Like?” “smaller, For A Start.

-Laurie Halse Anderson

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I Keep Thinking That

Laurie Halse Anderson

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I Keep Thinking That If I Could Just Unzip My Skin, Step Out Of This Body, Then I Would See Who I Really Am.“ She Nods Her Head Slowly. „what Do You Think You‘d Look Like?” “smaller, For A Start.

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I Failed Eating, Failed Drinking, Failed Not Cutting Myself Into Shreds. Failed Friendship. Failed Sisterhood And Daughterhood. Failed Mirrors And Scales And Phone Calls. Good Thing I'm Stable.

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My English Teacher Has No Face. She Has Uncombed Stringy Hair That Droops On Her Shoulders. The Hair Is Black From Her Part To Her Ears And Then Neon Orange To The Frizzy Ends. I Can't Decide If She Had Pissed Off Her Hairdresser Or Is Morphing Into A Monarch Butterfly. I Call Her Hairwoman.

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Eating Was Hard. Breathing Was Hard. Living Was Hardest.

Rumors Are Spread By Jealous People

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I Pull My Lower Lip All The Way In Between My Teeth. If I Try Hard Enough, Maybe I Can Gobble My Whole Self This Way.... I Didn't Try Hard Enough To Swallow Myself.

He Doesn't See My Breasts Or My Waist Or My Hips. He Only Sees The Nightmare.

Eating Disorder

Apologies Mean Nothing If You Don't Mean It.

I Want To Be In Fifth Grade Again. Now, That Is A Deep Dark Secret, Almost As Big As The Other One. Fifth Grade Was Easy -- Old Enough To Play Outside Without Mom, Too Young To Go Off The Block. The Perfect Leash Length.

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None Of [the Books Are] Worth Reading. There Are No Fairy Tales, No Faerie Tails, No Sword-swinging Princesses Or Lightning-throwing Gods.

Because I Am Still A Little Girl Who Believes In Santa And The Tooth Fairy And You.

I Was Good At Digging Holes. It Was The Rest Of Life I Sucked At.

They Tied Me Back Together, But They Didn't Use Double Knots. My Insides Are Draining Out Of The Fault Lines In My Skin, I Can Feel It, But Every Time I Check The Bandages, They're Dry.

Write About The Emotions You Fear The Most.

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I Won The Wintergirl Trip Over The Border Into Dangerland.

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Life Is For The Living. Don't Let The Fear Of Striking Out Let You From Keep You From Playing The Game.

She Offered Herself To The Big, Bad Wolf And Didn't Scream When He Took The First Bite.

There Is Nothing Wrong With Me. These Are Really Sick People, Sick That You Can See.

Grandma Frowned And Yelled Something In Russian. She Could Have Been Saying, 'open Up, Your Best Friend Is Here.' On The Other Hand, It Could Have Been, 'america Is A Great Country Because Of Canned Ravioli.

I Scared Myself, Because Once You've Thought Long And Hard Enough About Doing Something That Is Colossally Stupid, You Feel Like You've Actually Done It, And Then You're Never Quite Sure What Your Limits Are.

I Swallowed The Fear. It’s Always There– Fear– And If You Don’t Stay On Top Of It, You’ll Drown. I Swallowed Again And Stood Tall, Shoulders Broad, Arms Loose. I Was Balanced, Ready To Move. My Body Said, “yeah, You’re Bigger And Stronger, But If You Touch This, I Will Hurt You.

My Parents Didn't Raise Me To Be Religious. The Closest We Come To Worship Is The Trinity Of Visa, Mastercard, And American Express. I Think The Merryweather Cheerleaders Confuse Me Because I Missed Out On Sunday School. It Has To Be A Miracle. There Is No Other Explanation. How Else Could They Sleep With The Football Team On Saturday Night And Be Reincarnated As Virginal Goddesses On Monday?

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To Keep Up Appearances, I Stomp My Room And Slam The Door.

Sometimes I Think High School Is One Long Hazy Activity: If You Are Tough Enough To Survive This, They'll Let You Become An Adult. I Hope It's Worth It.

Because I Am Still A Little Girl Who Believes In Santa And The Tooth Fairy And You.

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I Want To Tell Him That It's Just A Stupid Car, But Bits Of Me Are Scattered All Over Town; The Graveyard, School, Cassie's Room, The Motel, And Standing In From Of The Sink In My Mother's Kitchen. It Takes Too Much Energy To Gather All The Bits Together, So I Just Sit There And Watch Him Implode.

I Am Beginning To Measure Myself In Strength, Not Pounds. Sometimes In Smiles.

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I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

I Knew How Much It Hurt To Be The Daughter Of People Who Can't See You, Not Even If You Are Standing In Front Of Them Stomping Your Feet.

It Had Been A Good Day, All Things Considered. I Had Managed Rather Well On My Own. I Opened Grandfather's Bible. This Is What It Would Be Like When I Had My Own Shop, Or When I Traveled Abroad. I Would Always Read Before Sleeping. One Day, I'd Be So Rich I Would Have A Library Full Of Novel To Choose From. But I Would Always End The Evening With A Bible Passage.

I Look At My Homely Sketch. It Doesn't Need Anything. Even Through The River In My Eyes I Can See That. It Isn't Perfect And That Makes It Just Right.

Grandma Frowned And Yelled Something In Russian. She Could Have Been Saying, 'open Up, Your Best Friend Is Here.' On The Other Hand, It Could Have Been, 'america Is A Great Country Because Of Canned Ravioli.

Did You Read Last Nights Assignments?" Say "yes'" And Get Hammered Again. Say "no'" And The Same Thing Would Happen.

I Smile And Play Pretend Through The Morning Show In The Kitchen.

Principal Principal: Where's Your Late Pass, Mister? Errant Student: I'm On My Way To Get One Now. Pp: But You Can't Be In The Hall Without A Pass. Es: I Know, I'm So Upset. That's Why I Need To Hurry, So I Can Get A Pass. Principal Principal Pauses With A Look On His Face Like Daffy Duck's When Bugs Is Pulling A Fast One. Pp: Well, Hurry Up, Then, And Get That Pass.

I Reach For Funny Books All The Time To Help Me Get Through Life.

Having To Parent Your Mother Or Father Is A Challenge That Way Too Many Teens Have To Deal With. Teens Whose Parents Are Dealing With Substance Abuse, Financial Hardship, Job Loss, Mental Illness And Divorce Deserve Our Love, Support, And Compassion. I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

It Had Been A Good Day, All Things Considered. I Had Managed Rather Well On My Own. I Opened Grandfather's Bible. This Is What It Would Be Like When I Had My Own Shop, Or When I Traveled Abroad. I Would Always Read Before Sleeping. One Day, I'd Be So Rich I Would Have A Library Full Of Novel To Choose From. But I Would Always End The Evening With A Bible Passage.

I Decapitated Dandelions All Morning, Leaving Carnage And Death Strewn Into My Path.

A Little Kid Asks My Dad Why That Man Is Chopping Down The Tree. Dad: He's Not Chopping It Down. He's Saving It. Those Branches Were Long Dead From Disease. All Plants Are Like That. By Cutting Off The Damage You Make It Possible For The Tree To Grow Again. You Watch - By The End Of Summer, This Tree Will Be The Strongest On The Block.

I Wish Adults Would Spend Less Energy Freaking Out About The Cutting Itself And Work Harder To Understand What Drives Kids To Self-harm.

It Is My First Morning Of High School. I Have Seven New Notebooks, A Skirt I Hate, And A Stomachache.

I Breathe In Slowly. Food Is Life. I Exhale, Take Another Breath. Food Is Life. And That's The Problem. When You're Alive, People Can Hurt You. It's Easier To Crawl Into A Bone Cage Or A Snowdrift Of Confusion. It's Easier To Lock Everybody Out. But It's A Lie.

I Knit The Afternoon Away. I Knit Reasons For Elijah To Come Back. I Knit Apologies For Emma. I Knit Angry Knots And Slipped Stitches For Every Mistake I Ever Made, And I Knit Wet, Swollen Stitches That Look Awful. I Knit The Sun Down.

There Is No Magic Cure, No Making It All Go Away Forever. There Are Only Small Steps Upward; An Easier Day, An Unexpected Laugh, A Mirror That Doesn't Matter Anymore.

I Inscribe Three Lines, Hush Hush Hush, Into My Skin. Ghosts Trickle Out.

Sometimes Being An Adult Means Doing The Right Thing, Even If It's Not What You Want.

Censoring Books That Deal With Difficult, Adolescent Issues Does Not Protect Anybody. Quite The Opposite. It Leaves Kids In The Darkness And Makes Them Vulnerable. Censorship Is The Child Of Fear And The Father Of Ignorance. Our Children Cannot Afford To Have The Truth Of The World Withheld From Them

You Must Walk Alone To Find Your Soul.

This Camp Is A Forge For The Army; It's Testing Our Mettle. Instead Of Heat And Hammer, Our Trials Are Cold And Hunger. Question Is, What Are We Made Of?

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I Have Survived. I Am Here. Confused, Screwed Up, But Here. So, How Can I Find My Way? Is There A Chain Saw Of The Soul, An Ax I Can Take To My Memories Or Fears?

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl.

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I Want To Go To Sleep And Not Wake Up, But I Don’t Want To Die.

Everybody Told Me To Be A Man. Nobody Told Me How.

Kids Are Mostly Very Resilient.

I Stand In The Center Aisle Of The Auditorium, A Wounded Zebra In A National Geographic Special, Looking For Someone, Anyone To Sit Next To. A Predator Approaches: Gray Jock Buzz Cut, Whistle Around A Neck Thicker Than His Head. Probably A Social Studies Teacher, Hired To Coach A Blood Sport.

Gym Should Be Illegal. It's Humiliating.

I Nod Like I’m Listening,like We’re Communicating, And She Never Knows The Difference.

I Am Super Proud Of Being An American, But We Fail Our Veterans Every Day.

My Parents Didn't Raise Me To Be Religious. The Closest We Come To Worship Is The Trinity Of Visa, Mastercard, And American Express. I Think The Merryweather Cheerleaders Confuse Me Because I Missed Out On Sunday School. It Has To Be A Miracle. There Is No Other Explanation. How Else Could They Sleep With The Football Team On Saturday Night And Be Reincarnated As Virginal Goddesses On Monday?

I Pushed My Ragged Mouth Against The Mirror. A Thousand Crushed Bleeding Lips Pushed Back At Me.

I Don't Just Use Yarn From A Store. I Buy Old Sweaters From Consignment Shops. The Older The Better, And Unravel Them. There Are Countries Of Women In This Scarf/shawl/blanket. Soon It Will Be Big Enough To Keep Me Warm.

Lawyers On Tv Always Tell Their Clients Not To Say Anything. The Cops Say That Thing: 'anything You Say Will Be Used Against You.' Self-incrimination. I Looked It Up. Three-point Vocab Word. So Why Does Everyone Makes Such A Big Hairy Deal About Me Not Talking? Maybe I Don't Want To Incriminate Myself. Maybe I Don't Like The Sound Of My Voice. Maybe I Don't Have Anything To Say.

She Looks Like A China Doll, Observed Grandfather As We Departed. I Will Break Just As Easily, I Muttered.

They Yell At Me Because I Can't See What They See. Nobody Can Explain To Me Why My Eyes Work Different Than Theirs.

I Am A Gluttonous, Gorging Failure. A Waste. My Body Isn’t Used To High-sugar Carbs Laced With Witchcraft. It Can Barely Cope With Soup And Crackers.

I Open A Paperclip And Scratch It Across The Inside Of My Left Wrist. Pitiful. If A Suicide Attempt Is A Cry For Help, Then What Is This. A Whimper, A Peep? I Draw Little Window Cracks Of Blood, Etching Line After Line Until It Stops Hurting.

Do They Choose To Be So Dense? Were They Born That Way? I Have No Friends. I Have Nothing. I Say Nothing. I Am Nothing.

Having To Parent Your Mother Or Father Is A Challenge That Way Too Many Teens Have To Deal With. Teens Whose Parents Are Dealing With Substance Abuse, Financial Hardship, Job Loss, Mental Illness And Divorce Deserve Our Love, Support, And Compassion. I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

The Best Time To Talk To Ghosts Is Just Before The Sun Comes Up.

Two Days Later, Two Days Before Christmas, I Am Judged Fat And Sane Enough To Be Kicked Out Of The Hospital. The Plan To Send Me Straight Back To New Seasons Won't Work. There Is No Room At The Inn For A Leather Lia-skin Plumped Full Of Messy Things. Not Yet. The Director Promises Dr. Marrigan He'll Have A Bed For Me Next Week. I'm Stable Enough To Go Home Until Then. They All Say I'm Stable.

Look At The Stupid, Poor People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People, Look At Their Dead Baby. It's Death Porn For The Masses.

I See A Girl Caught In The Remains Of A Holiday Gone Bad, With Her Flesh Picked Off Day After Day As The Carcass Dries Out. The Knife And Fork Are Abviously Middle-class Sensibilities. The Palm Tree Is A Nice Touch. A Broken Dream,perhaps? Plastic Honeymoon, Deserted Island? Oh, If You Put In A Slice Of Pumpkin Pie, It Could Be A Desserted Island! (pg 64)

I Watch Some Kids Ask The Cafeteria Ladies To Sign Their Books. What Do They Write: "hope Your Chicken Patties Never Bleed?" Or, Maybe, "may Your Jell-o Always Wiggle?

I've Written In Every Imaginable Location; A Repurposed Closet, The Kitchen Table, The Bleachers While My Kids Had Basketball Practice, The Front Seat Of The Car When They Were At Soccer. In Airports. On Trains. In The Break Room When I Was Supposed To Be Wolfing Down Dinner. In The Back Of Classrooms When I Was Supposed To Be Paying Attention.

Why Not Draw Naked Guys, Just To Be Fair? Naked Women Is Art, Naked Guys A No-no, I Bet. Probably Because Most Painters Are Men.

You Can Tell A Book Is Real When Your Heart Beats Faster. Real Books Make You Sweat. Cry, If No One Is Looking. Real Books Help You Make Sense Of Your Crazy Life. Real Books Tell It True, Don't Hold Back And Make You Stronger. But Most Of All, Real Books Give You Hope. Because It's Not Always Going To Be Like This And Books-the Good Ones, The Ones-show You How To Make It Better. Now.

My First Class Is Biology. I Can't Find It And Get My First Demerit For Wandering The Hall. It Is 8:50 In The Morning. Only 699 Days And 7 Class Periods Until Graduation.

We Swore Sacred Oaths To Be Strong And To Save The Planet And To Be Friends Forever.

I'm Learning How To Taste Everything.

They're On Their Way To The Foreign-language Wing. That's No Surprise. The Foreign Kids Are Always Here, Like They Need To Breathe Air Scented With Their Native Language A Couple Times A Day Or They'll Choke To Death On Too Much American.

We Turned Us Into Wintergirls, And When She Tried To Leave, I Pulled Her Back Into The Snow Because I Was Afraid To Be Alone.

Gossip Is The Foul Smell From The Devil's Backside.

I Needed To Hear The World But Didn't Want The World To Know I Was Listening.

They're On Their Way To The Foreign-language Wing. That's No Surprise. The Foreign Kids Are Always Here, Like They Need To Breathe Air Scented With Their Native Language A Couple Times A Day Or They'll Choke To Death On Too Much American.

Didn't Help To Ponder Things That Were Forever Gone. It Only Made A Body Restless And Fill Up With Bees, All Wanting To Sting Something.

I Knew How Much It Hurt To Be The Daughter Of People Who Can't See You, Not Even If You Are Standing In Front Of Them Stomping Your Feet.

It Doesn't Hurt. Nothing Hurts Except The Small Smiles And Blushes That Flash Across The Room Like Tiny Sparrows.

I Watch Some Kids Ask The Cafeteria Ladies To Sign Their Books. What Do They Write: "hope Your Chicken Patties Never Bleed?" Or, Maybe, "may Your Jell-o Always Wiggle?

I Can’t Tell Anymore When I’m Asleep And When I’m Awake, Or Which Is Worse.

My Face Becomes A Picasso Sketch, My Body Slicing Into Pieces.

The Stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking Didn't Make Her Skinny, It Made Her Cry.

Eating Disorder

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Mikhail Lermontov

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