Alyson

There’s something I do to myself when I have really landed at the bottom of the pit. I ask myself the rhetorical question, like a disciplinarian parent, What would my _____ self think of me now? I didn’t realize how mean it was until last week at the doctor’s office. A wellness-check. The scale.

What would my ana-self think of me now?

That’s the question that does me in. The answer hits like a spanking.

My grip slips in pre-calculus, just like every time I have attempted a pull-up. When did this begin?

What would my “smartest in the class” elementary school self think of me now?

God, everyone thought I was so smart. But now every other number might as well be a question mark and I don’t want to “ask my neighbor” because I can practically see his ego eating my dependency up.

I wonder if someday I will ask myself, What would my high school self think of me now?