Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Cryptic Diary


by ValentineRevenge 2 reviews

Andy isn't doing too well...

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2012-12-09 - Updated: 2012-12-09 - 517 words

Andy wasn't doing too well. He definitely had lost weight, as Jinxx had believed. But then again, Senor Stinkybones would have seen that a mile away, although the last time he had seen Andy was nearly 3 or so months prior. The loss had become more drastic and pronounced over the summer when he had nothing but free time to exercise and burn off all the 'fat'.

The whole thing was, he didn't exactly have all that much fat. Several months prior, his BMI was hovering somewhere in the high teens to low 20's. Not super underweight, but not overweight either. He was on the slightly more slender side of average. Now, he was too skinny for how own good. He had dropped below the BMI of 18.5 – the underweight threshold.

He was more than skinny. He was a walking skeleton. He weighed about the same as a short, skinny teenage girl. Not a good combination, what with his giraffe height. If he were eating, it wouldn't be so bad. Alas, he rarely did, and every bite that went in promptly came back up, into the nearest trash can, or toilet. Then, he exercised. Walking in circles around his room for hours, hundreds of situps, quick jogs around the block, and lifting and carrying objects occupied his time. He shuffled the furniture around in his room multiple times in a day just to help burn the extra calories.

Even so, all he saw when he looked in the mirror was a huge fat lump. He just wanted to be perfect, or at the very least, lose the flubber. It never seemed to want to budge, making him even stricter on his 'diet', obsessively counting calories, promising himself that the next day, the number in would be lower, and the number out would be higher.

But the truth of the matter was, Andy found the obsessive exercising and calorie counting comforting. He found it easier to concentrate on his pangs of hunger and aching bod y than to even consider letting his mind think about the rest of his life.

Because the rest of his life, if it wasn't hell itself, it was a close second. In fact, the eating disorder that he had developed could easily be considered the simplest and pleasantest part of it, which was saying something massive. But at least it kept his mind busy, on things other than his life. It made him look forward to the future in a bizarre way. Like, when I get 20 pounds thinner before school starts again next year, maybe then things would start looking up.

Vaguely, he felt like the eating disorder would be around for a while. But that was just fine by him, because in the oddest way, it was soothing the ache of his life. While he couldn't see it, and his family didn't care enough to tell him what they were seeing, he was headed down the path of self destruction at a break neck pace. But even if someone had told him what they were seeing, he wouldn't have changed a single goddamn thing.
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