Chinese horror story E2: The story of my life

This story comes from one of my sufferers, a young girl with anorexia nervosa, a disease that is not just a literal aversion to eating, but an obsession with temptation that will never escape. She was extremely impressive, not only because she finally chose to suicide, but also because of her statement, from which I realized a kind of creepy metaphor.

  • They’ve promised that dreams can come true – but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too.

The fluorescent lights in the morgue were dim, and I felt the warmth of a long absence.

“This girl is actually quite good-looking,” said the two autopsies as they shoved me into the freezer. Get out of the way. Do you know what that means to me? Life sucks.

What else can I do? How much effort have I put in over the years? Half a life!

I grew up to be a fat girl, yes I’m not ugly, but the word fat is like a devil, ruining almost every chance. When I was a kid I wanted to be an actor, a show host, and I sang beautifully, but they just asked me to stand backstage and dub the lip-synching people, and those pretentious pretty girls are famous because of me. Do you know how wronged I was?

This society discards everything that goes against its aesthetic style.

I was brought up in a variety of discrimination, students call me “fat boy”, although my grades are good but the teacher still look down on me, no boys would like to play with me. After graduation I have given up the ideal career, but even some civilian jobs are not willing to me, they even thought I was “unsightly in the office!”

My father had great expectations of me. Generations of my family are ordinary people, have long given up the idea of success through hard work. The fortune teller said my generation had good luck and could make it. From childhood home are very pet me, save money to buy me a variety of cram classes, dance lessons, piano lessons, I hope I can get ahead, to get this family off the ground floor.

If my family had been rich, perhaps my life would not have been so; the children of those rich families, no matter what they looked like, would have been extolled with respect, but the family was expecting me to make a lot of money, but they left me with such a hereditary gene. What a ridiculous paradoxe.

The Internet is a good thing, the Internet economy is a big savior, as long as you have some talent, this stage can give you real money, as well as enjoy endless glory and scenery. Yeah, they are telling you this, while counting the money, they proudly told you that they are the success of the Internet age, although their level in my eyes is nothing but slag.

Even if the slags are successful, why can’t I be such a powerful person? I also want to be an online celebrity! When you’re an online celebrity you can make a fortune just by singing, chatting with fans, asking viewers for virtual gifts that can be exchanged for cash. They said they could make tens of thousands of dollars in a month of webcasting! Becoming an online celebrity can also endorse products, it is said that someone sold 20 million yuan worth of clothing at a Taobao store in two hours; others made $2 million in venture capital just to tell jokes… This is a gold mine, a gold mine that our forefathers could not even imagine. What are you waiting for now?

That’s what I thought at the time. I was confident in my voice and knowledge, but I failed. I wasn’t famous. There were only a few sarcastic words on the screen. They said I was Piggy’s sister, that I was ugly… They hit me where it hurts; I am fat, and my weight is something that destroys dignity, a sin, a disgrace.

Fighting under pressure for almost a year, I have not been able to build up a few fans, no advertisers, no product to find me for endorsement, the only thing left was tears, and a bitter hatred for the fat.

What should I do? What else can I do besides lose weight cruelly?

I checked a lot of books, those more professional admonition is: If you do not have cardiovascular disease, no knee and back of long-term pain, your diet is normal, there is no need to lose weight. Ha ha, this shows that those experts simply do not understand the society.

Why diet? Because exercise doesn’t Work. I’m genetically obese, my mother and maternal grandparents are obese, although they don’t have cardiovascular disease. I try to lose weight, I work hard on days when I can’t find a job, I suffer from chronic muscle soreness. To avoid the odd stares on the street, I choose to run at night, I can’t afford gym membership cards, I exercise at home. But it doesn’t work at all. The scales don’t lie.

Desperate, I began to collect knowledge about weight loss everywhere, almost all weight-loss programs will mention dieting. I made up my mind not to cut down and never eat. I posted a big food calorimeter in my room, counting the calories I ate every day. I would never touch food that wasn’t on the form, they were like a super energy ball, a black hole, a dose of poison in my eyes, and eating them would definitely die.

But still no, too slow! Not ideal at all! Why strictly control the intake scale according to the book’s standards or unchanged? The book is wrong? The form is wrong? Or the calculator is wrong?! I replaced them all, this time dedicated to the collection of extreme speed diet, no matter what source, I will try all methods, my dream is to stand up must not be ruined, my body can not be destroyed.

This time I specialize in finding ways to lose weight quickly, wherever I see it. I’m going to try everything. My dream is to stand up and be human. My life can’t be ruined by my body, it can’t be.

Everyone will tell you: Diet and exercise is the best way to lose weight. My personal experience can definitely confirm that, indeed. On the basis of a strict diet, I exercise hard, pedaling my bike for three hours a day, a hundred sit-ups, standing up at all times except sleeping… The scale finally smiles, and God has mercy on me.

That’s when it started. I was crazy. Tough work finally found a way to help me out of the first dark half of my life. I’m going to run, the front is the dawn. Will you walk slowly? No, certainly not, I want to run. I have had enough grievances, wasted too many tears. Now, finally everything is almost over.

The whole street has only two colours in my eyes: red and green – the shops selling fruits and vegetables and clothing accessories are green, representing health, slim, beautiful and a bright future; the shops selling pastries, meat products, grain and oil are red, representing danger, obesity, ugliness and endless abyss. Red radiates its malevolent light, like a serpent’s claw. You have to get around them. Bypass them at a distance, not even take a glance. This is called self-control, which is the highest step towards success.

I had to make myself sick of all that stuff. Do you know how to quit smoking and booze? Yes, the same principle. The only real success is to disgust myself with the smell of nicotine and alcohol. I no longer eat at the table. I loathe the smell of the kitchen. If I continue to eat the same home-cooked food and three meals a day, the result is that my body is no different from my mother’s. I have a recipe of my own design – the one that unearths the fastest results from a wide variety of extreme weight loss methods, which are Truth, Prescription and the Bible.

As I walk down the street, my eyes automatically search for overweight people. I’m constantly irritated by the smell of their bloated bodies. I’m sickened by the smell of them. This is how I’ve been hated by others and licked ice cream without knowing it. Twenty years of my life has been in vain.

Never go back to those dark days. No… it’s time to forget it. I’ve stepped on to success. Just pick up the pace, and it’ll be over in no time.

The scale began to smile! It was playing an impassioned melody to celebrate me! 48kg. It was simply marvellous for my height of 167cm!

It’s really dawning. I wept bitterly. Although I was too weak to stand, I was often dizzy and sallow. But my heart strings were always singing in the song of triumph. I am a winner. Nothing is more important than success. It is what everyone is after. In order to succeed, everything is worth it.

This era recognizes only the success.

You know, there’s so much more pressure on winners than on losers. Think about it. How can you fall back into gloom when you’ve seen the light? No, I’m wrong. It’s not a success. I’m just standing on the edge of danger with my back to the cliff. A moment of inattention can be fatal. Can’t do it again. I really don’t have the strength to do it again. Danger… Don’t look back… Danger…

It’s like a dream. I think I’m about to wake up. Almost. Just a little push… Open your eyes… No! Don’t wake up! Or a bloated body, endless giggles, a pauper’s day? No! Never!

Why is there 24 hours a day? It’s too long. It’s unbearable. Now, the only way to avoid food is to sleep and sleep. It’s best to sleep for 20 hours. It’s best not to wake up. I can’t go out any more. The stairs are as steep as Mount Everest. Slim and slender legs are my pride, although they can hardly support my body. But I can wear the most beautiful clothes to show off, although my pale face makes me want to put on a mask…

Don’t wake me up. I need to sleep. Everything is quiet. How beautiful.

I dreamt that I stood on the stage with all the lights on and made all the lip-synching feel bad; that I had reached the pinnacle of my life with flowers and praise; that I had found a job as a senior secretary, that I was the face of a big business, that the money was flying; that I had caught the eye of all the men, and they bowed down under my skirt…

Don’t wake me up. I’m not hungry! Don’t talk to me about that disgusting food. I’m tired of being trapped.

Glucose! It’s poison! Gosh. You murderers, kill me. Come on, kill me! Don’t give me glucose! Help…

I didn’t have the strength to push those big hands away. I heard crying. It seemed like Mum. Mum knew they were killing me too? Mum, help me. I couldn’t take glucose! All glucose was calorie bombs!

Tears all over my face soaked the pillow. My ears were like floating in the river. It was cold. The bone was cold. I couldn’t move. Did they tie me up? The yellow daylight, the reflection of people, whispering, crying…

The world is crazy. It can rob you of your life with fat and bury you in hell with glucose. You are just a puppet. Forever manipulated, discriminated, ridiculed, rejected, seduced, bound. Why me? Why must I go through these disasters. What have I done wrong to accept such punishment!

I used my best to pull the tangled infusion tube. Running all the way to the toilet, vomiting. Stomach juice spits out. There must have been some poison glucose. The numb limbs could barely feel everything around them. But all of a sudden my mind was wide awake. Because I found another way! God just made a little joke. Ha ha, I won.

No, it’s not the road to success. It’s the road to hell. I didn’t know anything then. Just thinking that I wouldn’t have to starve again, the disaster is going to end.

Food is an evil thing. You can’t get rid of it at all. Trust me. When I allow myself to start eating, my stomach instantly becomes a giant bottomless pit, forever filled with discontent. A few pounds of pastries, a dozen loaves of bread, chunks of meat, I can eat it in a few minutes. But I won’t eat anything like ice cream, because it can be hard to spit out intact.

Laryngeal vomiting is more important to my meals than chopsticks. Without chopsticks there are hands, but if I can’t vomit I’m sure to die. I choose the most calorie-laden foods, the ones I haven’t touched in over a year, and now I can finally enjoy them to the fullest. Leave them feeling happy in my mouth, but never let them stay in my stomach. Not giving them time to break down and absorb so I can’t be proud of my appetite.

Vomiting is a hassle. After all, I don’t live alone. It’s not easy to avoid my parents’ eyes. They’ll never understand. Vomiting is the healthiest way for me. It’s not a sign of a disease.

It’s not hard at all. It’s easy to do. As long as you hate what you eat as much as I do. Hate your indulgence. It’s easy to vomit when you think about your terrible figure and your fate framed by it. It’s like unscrewing a faucet. I put my hand on my stomach and feel the extent of the collapse. To make sure I can’t get rid of any junk.

Almost at the same time, a series of strange things followed. I no longer have the pleasure of eating full, do not enjoy the delicious food. At the same time my fear of hunger is even more intense. Almost all the time of the day I have only two things left in my mind: eat and vomit. I keep eating just to keep vomiting. I try desperately to collect food, just to repeat the process. Repeat until I’m exhausted. I steal money from home just to buy lots of food. I run away from the love of my family just to be able to vomit freely… whether talking or typing, the word ‘weight loss’ is stuck in my throat like a sharp knife; no matter how large the text, as long as there are words related to weight loss, I can find it instantly.

I can’t remember who I am. What I’m doing. Why I’m living.

Glory. Yes, it’s all just for glory. I need to be praised, recognized, I need to succeed. Yes, now only the pursuit of success can fill my heart.

Everyone lives under the pressure of public opinion. Social values define your life. It is those who do not care about you write the concept of success for you. You are told: the law of the jungle is the reality. Win or die in inhuman social competition. Who wouldn’t want to be beautiful, slender and charming? Especially in a time when knowledge is devalued and ability is cheap to look at the face. As a girl, you have little choice if you want to cross the iron walls of the class.

Fate will always play a fatal joke on some people. God will not love the weak. If I want to climb out of this stratum that depend on others all the life, I can only do it through my own efforts. But this society only recognize appearances. People like to say that men live hard, to have knowledge, will make money and will engage in human relations. Girls, on the other hand, have everything at their fingertips if they are beautiful. But they forget that expensive cosmetic surgery is not affordable for everyone, and that not many people can afford to be immaculately beautiful. Some roads are doomed to death, and not many people can enjoy the natural beauty. Some roads are doomed to be fatal, and some people will not be able to escape their inferior status for generations to come.

Success or die. Now that life is the only bet I can afford. The more you pay, the harder it is to give up. Whatever the outcome. I have no way back. Wherever I go, it is the end.


中文版:《中国恐怖故事 2:我一生的故事

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