Why

I look in a mirror. My eyes are wide but tired. Leaning in a little closer, I gently place a small amount of lotion near the corners of my eyes and mouth trying to relieve some of the tension lines that seem to be multiplying daily. It doesn't do me much good I'm sure but I do it anyway. I notice my finger trembling as it lingers on the edge of my lips, tracing what once was a smile. Hurts too much anymore. Deeper…and nothing like the scars that riddles the back of my hands as I balled them up in anger of absolutely nothing.

Sighing, I open the third drawer below hoping that I have a clean, dark shirt to pull over my wet hair and shoulders, stopping just slightly to catch a glimpse of what I was trying to hide. In a huff I pull the T-shirt all the way down and throwing on a pair of pants too big but forgiving. Brushing my thinning locks up and out of the way, a strand of hair falls down my face. I just let it. I have no will to care. It's there for the day as I am. I look back at the woman in the mirror, not recognizing her. Some days I refuse to. It's me, there's no way around it. Just some times I wish I could be like the women in the magazines with nary a hair out of place, perfect complexion and perky breasts. Or better yet, the woman in so many pictures smiling and laughing that litter the family album collecting dust under the coffee table.

Running my fingers thru the stray strands of hair, I get the day started as I have done every day for the passed so many years. I clamp my eyes shut of the person I wish I was as I turn the alarm clock off five minutes before it's supposed to chime. Why I bother with one, I don't know. I don't sleep but a wink here or there. Even when I do, I'm still aware of everything that goes on around me. It's so easy to turn off the alarm clock. Why isn't so easy to turn off the world?

As I drug myself, one foot sluggishly after another to get the boys ready on time, I can remember when routine wasn't in my vocabulary. We slept in and did nothing but what we wanted to do and it was fun. Now its butter on this side of the bread, jam the other, not forgetting the notebooks, folders, tennis shoes and I love you's as they're shuffled out to the bus.

I refuse to go outside to see them off. I have before but don't anymore. I got tired of the points and giggles from the "other" kids making comments about the woman on the front porch of the blue house. Oh my ears never heard a thing any of them said. But in the back of my mind, it was my own voice that made the taunts matching the stares and snobbish little faces. As my hand struggled to grab the handle against a blustery wind, I shut the door to the world. I was once again to myself. Devoid of laughter, chaos, and self worth.

Walking down the hallway, I ignore the pangs of hunger emanating from my rumbly stomach. Today I prolly won't eat. I don't feel like it. Or maybe I do but just can't bare the thought of what I did yesterday. Not this day. I swore just a few hours before that I wouldn't become weak again and continue a pattern I promised myself for years to overcome. I failed just like I have at so many other things in my life. All I had to do was to stand before the mirror I turned away from this morning and remind myself of how hideous I was, justification became simple.

Picking up the discarded clothes the boys left and throwing them in the washer not but a few feet from the very room I wanted to ignore, I tried to forgot that I was hungry. I didn't dare go to the kitchen, though. Temptation is sinful. I knew I needed to do the dishes from the night before but the smell of the food was nauseating. Hungry or stubborn, it would throw me off. I've lived this day before. For years… One day became two, two became three. No worries. By the third or fourth day, I didn't recall the pangs or dizzying effects that taking a step forward would have on me.

Backing away from the counter, I lit a candle to disguise the odor and walked back down the hallway to my room. The day was sunny and the warmth gradually raised the temperature in my cold escape. Sitting down at my computer, I brought up the mornings news on the internet, trying hard to remain deaf to the sounds in my midriff. Today, it didn't work, and I found myself walking back down an empty hallway towards the kitchen.

My hands shook as I opened up the cupboard. It was full of nothing edible. Atleast to me. Nothing palatable to anyone but a growing boy of 8 or 9 or a man that no longer wanted a snack before dinner. So I grabbed a bowl and poured in a healthy amount of something that tasted a lot like cardboard, forcing myself to swallow as the spoon penetrated a very defiant set of lips over and over again. Defiance quickly became overindulgence and the sickening feeling in my stomach was no longer hunger. It was disgust and pity. And it gave me such a horrible after taste that I had to rid myself of it. The very tool I used to feed one obsession soon became the tool to rid me of another.

I failed again.

Not sure of why or how, but sleep came to me quickly lying on the floor no where near my bed. Maybe it held too many memories or nightmares to let me rest, I don't know. But the floor was cool and forgiving like the rag-o-muffin dogs curled up beside me. Nothing I ever did was wrong in their eyes. Why couldn't the world see me as they did. But their minds weren't twisted and manipulated by the masses as every else was. Even my own children who once said "Mommy, you're pretty" or "Mommy, you're the best" saw fit to tell me they'd rather have a new puppy when given the option of just one more dog or a healthy mom. That was one of the worst things I could ever hear.

Then it hit me.

Why do I hate myself so much? Why do continually torture myself for the acceptance of another? WHY! Does it take me becoming sickly and stick thin again to gain the love of someone who only sees as shallow as he is? Does it take me practically killing myself, again, to be like WHO? That woman in the mirror is me. Like it or not. That is me. Why can't you love her, me, for who I am? Why can't I love myself for the very same reason?

Some one please tell me. If not now, later, because right now I have to lift this very heavy burden off the floor….