choose your poison

Most of us are born with a body that's beautiful in its wholeness...so why do we do everything in our power to change this when we grow up?

Don't get me wrong, I definitely have something of the party animal streak within me. But what can really ruin a house party for me is when I see a drunk person throwing up into a bin somewhere.

This might sound slightly odd coming from someone who's worked in aged care, has had baby cousins, studies medicine and comes from a medical family (i.e. I'm okay with fecal incontinence being discussed over lunch, I've mopped up my fair share of toddler vomit, I handle dead body parts, I've stuck my {gloved} hand into a bucket of compost...), but I think I may have some idea why this is the case. Why I rushed to console my feverish cousin who threw up his apple juice all over my floor, but ran away from that college student who started stumbling towards me looking green: I don't really understand why someone who's fortunate enough to have a healthy body would go and deliberately poison it.

Someone who's vomiting because they've contracted a stomach bug is clearly not in control of themselves and therefore is to be pitied. But surely someone who's had 10 standard drinks could have controlled themselves long before they started heaving over the bin/toilet/sink, long before they started wasting medical resources that could be used to help someone who's in dire straits through no fault of their own.

However, those of you who know me will probably yell at me and say that it's a case of the pot calling the kettle black, because I have definitely engaged in my share of self-harm. Yes, I was a "cutter" in my teens, long before the word "emo" came into common use. I got out my blades whenever I needed to punish myself, whenever I felt confused, whenever I was frustrated...okay maybe not whenever, since it wasn't happening on a daily basis, but...

It's a part of myself that I really loathe, because I can't believe I was so short-sighted that I thought I'd never wear a swimsuit in public (most of the scars are on my upper thigh) or that I deliberately interfered with my body's normality. I hate my thunder thighs, but what I hate even more is that they've got these angry pale lines where I slashed away my bad feelings several years ago.

And this self-loathing I suppose is a factor in my dislike of people who decide to get completely off their face on their drug of choice. I fear it's similar to what some people say about homophobes - that the people who are most against homosexuality are those who see such tendencies within themselves and are uncomfortable about it. So feel free to laugh at me, or say that I'm twice as screwed up as you. Who knows, I probably am.

But maybe next time you're at a party, spare a thought for your liver? And the rest of your beautiful body that Nature blessed you with?