A letter from October 14th, 2020

Dear Future Me, I am writing this as an assignment for Mrs. Garcia's 9th grade language arts class, but that doesn't mean that what I am writing is not true. If everything is going as I planned it would when you get this you will either already have been recruited in the army and are nearing the end of boot camp. You are on your way to achieving your dreams and I just want to remind you to continue to put all of your effort into becoming an FBI or CIA agent. You have been dreaming of this since you were in sixth grade don't quit now when the only thing between you and your dream job is three years of military service. As I am writing this I am listening to the song Musty by shoreline mafia. The last two nights I have cried myself to sleep, and not even because of the global pandemic that is happening around me. I was watching a movie that I have watched a couple of times now but I had never had that reaction to it as I did yesterday. It was a movie about anorexia and I wanted to watch it because I had a different perspective on eating disorders as I have been struggling with them lately. Thankfully I stopped because I made myself and nobody ever found out. The time when my mom found me throwing up my food I made the excuse that my food had not gone down well and she believed me I think. The horror and shame that I felt when she knocked on the bathroom door was immense. The whole rest of the day I felt so ashamed even though I knew that she had not found out. That time that she found me throwing up was one of the times that it felt the worst. I'm sure you still remember the feeling when you are mid throw up and you want to stop but can't. It all comes out. It feels like you are going to die. From your own throw up choking you. The most horrible feeling in the world. As I am writing this I am shaking. Holding back my tears. I am not sure why. The reason that the movie I was watching had that effect on me was because it almost made me want to start again. I looked at the girl and saw how she was skin and bones and suddenly I had the urge to run to the bathroom and throw up. I cried because I didn't want to feel like I was choking on my own throw up again. I didn't want to do it. I went to the restroom and sat in the corner that I always sit in to cry. It is in the farthest corner of the tiny bathroom, farthest from the door. I sat there and stared at the toilet and thought about it for a second. I couldn't bring myself to do it so I went back to my room which was supposed to be Vicky's too but she never sleeps here so it is basically mine. I sat on my bed and hugged Georgie. I told him that everything was going to be okay and that he didn't have to throw up again. He was never going to throw up again. I just told him that he would eat less and I checked the time. It was 2:16. I fell asleep, tears rolling down my cheeks, hugging Georgie, muttering to myself, "2:16, 2:16, 2:16...". Are you still friends with Lynnielle, Homar, and Xitlaly? If you aren't friends with Lynnielle or Homar at least please still be in contact with Xitlaly. She has been your friend since the third grade. Do you remember when you and all the neighborhood kids would get together to pray that Mexico wins the soccer games Saturday? Yep our ideas were very dumb. We would also make pop up menus with only chicken nuggets in them because that was the only thing we knew how to draw and make recognizable. Anyway you probably won't even get this letter since my email will probably have changed by then.