Raw. Lydia Davies

possibly could. I took a tiny bite, and OH MY GOD IT WAS INCREDIBLE. I ate the whole holy parsnip piece, and proceeded to pile another eight onto my plate. I genuinely had never tasted anything so amazing in my life as the sacred honey-glazed parsnip. I ate more and more of them, my family staring at me in both amazement and shock. I then asked for more and my father suggested that I might have had enough and should probably stop. I flew into a silent fury, ran upstairs and cried my eyes out, humiliated. I rang my boyfriend in tears for comfort, and then fell asleep for three hours from exhaustion, missing the present opening. It is a horrible feeling to have everyone begging and pleading with you to eat more constantly, only to have those same people tell you to stop eating when you are finally discovering the pleasure in food. It was both an infuriating and embarrassing concept to me. I understand that they guessed how bad I would feel after consuming so much, and they were probably trying to spare me from the painful emotions that would undoubtedly follow; but I just didn’t understand how they decided and assumed that they had the right to tell me NOT to eat after telling me to eat for so long! I was five fucking stone, for god’s sake, and all I ate was a few damn parsnips. They were all over double what I weighed, and had been stuffing their greedy gobs all day with piles of fatty foods. HOW DARE THEY? I would class this parsnip incident as my first binge, and there were many more to follow.

       29 December 2011

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      Hours pass at a time as I drift between thought and sleep through the night.