Bull

It's my dirty little secret. It's the one thing in my life that only I know about. I am the only one that can make it happen, and I am the only one who can make it stop. My ritual is almost automatic, as I close and lock bathroom door, then turn on the sink. It sickens me as I look into the toilet bowl and realize that my face has been in this position every day for many months. The nauseating smell makes this routine easier, yet even more disgusting. Sticking my head inside this porcelain bowl as my face and hair get splashed with vomit and toilet water, the anger inside myself ascends. I rise to rinse my face off, but displeased, I know that the work isn't done. I look at myself in the mirror with hatred and revulsion being the only feelings staring back at me. I go down yet again for another round. Jumping up, gasping for breath, staring at the contents of my stomach, I wash off my face and look at myself with infuriation, hatred, repulsion, ..."I HATE YOU!"
My name...