These Demons

Chapter Thirty-eight

When I park my car in front of the grocery store, everything in my head screams to start the engine again and drive away as fast as I can without looking back. But I don't.
Trembling as usual, I climb out of the vehicle, shove the keys into my pocket after I've locked it and walk towards the entrance with hesitant, yet quickened footsteps. I read every single negative review, tweet and comment out there and now I'm paying the price and can't handle all the anonymous voices screaming in my head telling me what a failure I am. I never used to care about negative remarks about my band and was always so positive, but everything about this concept of mine is failing right now. The hate from those faceless people out there is unbearable and I need a relief, need a way to shut it out and numb my emotions for a little while. This is the only thing I can think of, the only thing that will make it better, the only thing that I want.

The name of the store glows in bright letters and yells that I need to turn around, but I don't. Instead, I step inside and feel the warm and sticky air touch my freezing skin as I pass by the different sections of food and other household items until I've reached the shelves of my desire. 

The shelves I need to avoid more than anything. Colorful plastic packages that look like someone nicked them from a child's birthday party line up in front of my eyes and I frantically try to find something. 

Encourages kids to kill themselves. 

"Do you need help, sir?" The approaching employee makes me shriek and almost jump, but I quickly shake my head to not appear too crazy.
"No, it's fine," I croak and clear my throat.
"Are you sure?" Considering my strange behavior, I understand his doubts, but he needs to go. I already feel like he caught me committing a crime and his presence makes it all worse. "Are you looking for anything in particular? I can show you the Christmas section if you like," he offers, being the perfect salesman.

"No, thank you." I try my hardest to determined, but it's probably not very convincing. Gladly, I watch the guy shrug anyway.
"Just come to me if you change your mind." He disappears somewhere in the refrigerated department and I sigh in relief before I return to my weird frantic search through the variety of products. 

Promotes eating disorders.

One part of my brain lists all the calories and other gross stuff like fat and sugar and wants to make me leave, but the other part already weighs whether it's more important to get something easy to purge or something I really like and actually mustn't eat.
My hands get more and more hectic and my stress level rises until I get my hands on something I then pick. The moves of my body are still frenetic, but I think this is the thing I want. Maybe.
If I keep looking, I'll only freak more and there are cameras watching me in the corners, so I just screw my thoughts and grab two packs of soft gingerbread cookies because they smell great and two packs of the ready-to-eat baby cakes that have different toppings and look like muffins in a weird shape, and their toxic-looking colors confuse me. Whatever. I have to take them or I'll lose my mind.

Hypocrite. Liar. Fake.

The thought of going back, returning everything and leaving the store without a purchase crosses my mind more often than I can count on my way to the checkout, but I stay on my path to my doom and buy the candy without even looking up to the register operator once, my steps to the car even more panicked than they were when I went inside.

Pathetic manchild trying to be a rockstar.

Anxious is an understatement of my emotional state on the ride to my house, and my eyes keep shooting glances at the cakes on the passenger seat as if they were someone holding me hostage, but I try to keep my focus on the road until I spot the familiar sight of my place and pull up in the driveway to park and run to the door as fast as I can like I'm being chased, the food almost hidden under my jacket because I'm so embarrassed, despite nobody being anywhere around at this time of the day.

The door slammed shut behind me, I take off my jacket and shoes rapidly, shoo my cats away and question where I should go for my binge and then pick the couch like a normal person eating a nice snack. Only that I'm not normal and neither is the way I behave.

Obviously can't handle the fact that his emo band will never make it.

After I've ripped open the plastic foils, I take a moment to blankly stare at the tiny devils on my lap and realize I forgot to pour myself something to drink along with them, but I don't bother to catch up on that and hesitantly unwrap whatever these things are supposed to be. As it should, a cake with chocolate glaze comes first and even I'm surprised how badly my fingers shake when I raise it to my mouth.
I'm being ridiculous, I realize. I should either listen to the sane part of my mind and immediately throw them away or just give in and eat them, but instead, I hold them like grilled spiders or something else repulsive. 

Another record no one will remember, another band everyone will forget about.

With voices screaming in my ears like demons, I give in to the sweet sin and begin to shovel the candy into my dry mouth. My tongue savors the delicious taste of chocolate and sugar, but I know I can't allow myself to enjoy this and chew as fast as my teeth can, one piece after another disappearing from my lap until all I have left are empty, rustling wrappers and I taste nothing but my own greed and misery.

Terrible influence on kids who thinks he's a fucking hero.

As expected, guilt and regret both wash over me like a tremendous wave ready to break down everything in its way and I wish I could take a moment to calm down, but the way my stomach now sticks out won't let me. The awareness of the forbidden foods being inside of me chasing me down the hallway like a serial killer his victim, I enter the bathroom and turn up the water.
If I don't drink enough, it will hurt and make me cough and if I drink too much, I'll cause a mess, so picking this food was probably not the best idea, but it's too late to change my mind about my choice now that I've already made it, so I just gulp down a few sips before I head for the toilet. Every lifeless item here seems to accusingly stare at me and it's hard to ignore the piercing pain inside of me when I go down on my knees because there is no other way for my tall figure to empty the contents of my stomach.

I know this will make me feel better, but only for a minute. For a minute, I'll be relaxed, relieved, empty, calm and unaware of the awful mess I've become and what horrible things I do. I'll rest my head against the wall, breathe deeply and close my eyes, acid burning in my throat and my nose running, but with none of my stress and anxiety tangible anymore.

But as soon as the time is up, it will all come back. The hate, the guilt, the sickness, pain, sadness and grief, and there will be no way to hold it back anymore. 

He should just give it up already.

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Sonic Youth - Total Trash