Skinny

It's Monday morning. You wake up at 5 AM. Head to the gym. Run three miles. Lift weights. You have no energy but you need to be skinny.

You skip breakfast. Drink coffee. Black? Maybe add some milk. Almond milk because dairy bloats. No sugar.

It's 8:30 AM and you start getting ready for work. Wear make-up. Highlight and contour the face to make it look like you have cheekbones, chubby cheeks don't frame a face for TV.

It's 9:30. You walk into work. Studio lights shine bright. The weather girl says hi. She's drinking coffee. You ask her what she orders. She says a caramel machiatto. You know from looking at the menu those drinks bank in at around 300 calories. She wears a size zero.

You sit at your desk. The producer brings and donuts and eats one. She's smaller than you are.

People roll around for the morning meeting. They grab a donut. The girl that doesn't eat anything, ever, grabs one. You know she won't eat it. You've caught her throwing up before. She says it's anxiety. You're not sure.

Your clothes feel a little tight. You sit up straight so your belly doesn't look like it's spilling out. You already have a to-do list a mile long. You know you shouldn't be drinking energy drinks but you have one at your desk. It's the zero calorie ones, without sugar.

The girl who doesn't eat anything stops you in the hallway as you're heading out for the day. She asks, "Do you want a donut?" It's the one from earlier, the one she grabbed. You say "No, thank you" and walk out. You wonder what she's going to do with that donut.

You go the whole day without eating. You chug black coffee, decaf after 2 PM. You allow yourself one packet of nuts and protein bar. They say you go live at 5 PM. You push your lunch as close to the 5PM show as possible so you won't feel lightheaded.

You go live. You stuttered over two words. How? It's not that hard. It's three sentences, the rest you can read. You need to sound more natural. Your report could have been better.

You go back to look at what aired live. You know you could have done better. You pack up your bags and head out the door. The girl who never eats anything takes two puffs from her vape at the door. She didn't turn in a story today, which isn't unusual. You and her have the same deadlines, but for some reason she can get away with not turning in her work without repercussions. She looks at you with wide, doe eyes. She talks about how hard her day is.

You look at her, trying not to pass judgement. You wonder what you could get away with at work if you looked like her.

You run to your car and say good-bye before any more thoughts of that nature creep in your mind.

You go to the grocery store and see what you can eat. You choose foods loaded with chemicals, not calories. Sugar free this, low calorie that. You catch your reflection in the grocery aisle glass doors.

You know this isn't healthy. You know how this story plays out, ends. Each day is a war with self, not over self-control but over self-worth.

Net worth and net pounds are inversely proportional. The skinnier you are, the higher your worth. What's your market value?

You pick up turkey, no bread. You grab a granola bar. You're starving but you force yourself not to buy more because you don't have the self-control to stop eating once you start.

This is your story - your life now. You ignore the warning signs and head home. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner you can forget about your stomach growling for more food.