I just want
to be thin. I don’t want my legs to ever touch. I want to be able to see a gap
through my thighs. A noticeable collarbone. A bony hip. I want knobble knees. I
want a flat stomach. The outlines of a six pack. I want people to notice I’m
skinny. I know for a fact, that I am not overweight. I am
underweight. But I could be lighter.
It's never going be that simple - again -.
I try and
try but my obsession won’t let me leave.
At first, being thinner was about feeling better
about myself. As this horrid eating disorder progresses, it’s no longer about
looking better. It’s about not being seen at all. I want to disappear. To
vanish in thin air. How can I love so much the one thing that so devastatingly
kills me?
And it's just so hard to stay strong when nothing is right and everything is wrong.
Sometimes when I say "oh I'm
fine", I want someone to look me
in the eyes and say "tell the truth".
For me,
it’s always been about control. I controlled what went in, how much, and when.
Now it controls me. I can’t eat anything without freaking out. I tried again to
regain power over myself by beating this thing and just eating normally. But I
can’t. I’m too far in. I can’t eat anything without feeling guilty or wanting
to purge. Is this what it’s going to be like for the rest of my life?
I hate myself for eating. So I eat more.
No matter
how many times somebody tells me I’m not fat, I’ll never believe them.
Even though the numbers are dropping, I’m not
getting any thinner. God, what have I done?
I feel so
disgusting right now. I can’t believe I ate to make my mom happy again.
I feel so guilty after a binge, because I’ve
probably just eaten all the weight that took me so long to lose.
Everyone
says I’m really thin. Not just my family, but other girls and guys. I don’t see
it. I wear one of the most admired sizes in jeans. But I don’t see how I’m
skinny. I’ll stop when I see it.
No matter how much I tell myself that this is
for myself, and only me, there’s just this part of me that wants to go the
extra mile to impress HIM. But I know he won’t ever notice. Nobody ever does.
I can’t
stand to be touched by anyone. I don’t want them to have to feel all the fat
underneath my clothes.
I want to see what other people see when I look
in the mirror.
I’m only
doing this so I can stop cringing when I see my reflection in the mirror.
I’m torn between wanting recovery and wanting
to get deadly thin. I admit I love seeing bones, but I
also love to be strong. You can’t have it both ways.
The worst thing about food
for me, is that it is either ALL or NOTHING.
I will never be the same again.
I’m
stronger when I’m hungry. I’m happier when I’m hungry.
I hate when I eat around other people. If I try to take small portions or get healthier options, all I ever
hear is, “Are you on a diet or something?” Yeah, it’s called the I’M TERRIFIED
OF BEING FAT diet.
I love the
feeling of emptiness in my stomach, when I go to sleep at night. It makes me
feels controlling.
Everytime I eat, I want to never eat again.
I just want
someone to care.
The most frustrating part is that every time I
manage to reach my GW, I just relapse into a long period of binging and mess it
all up. I’ve never managed to stay at my GW for more than
a week. It kills me, that seductive delicious slap in the face.
All I care
about is losing weight. My studies have decreased, my grades have slipped, and
I have lost interest in hanging out with my friends. All I
want is to be skinny.
