Looking in the mirror is not enough anymore.
Stepping on the scale is more of a thrill.
Seeing the numbers get less and less.
It’s a game now.
Let’s see how many days I can go till I almost faint.
The shaky feeling of weakness is almost a drug.
Thinking about eating makes me cringe and turn up my nose.
Watching my body get smaller and smaller makes me fell prettier.
I could live off of cigarettes and water.
And the hunger pains in my stomach… it’s refreshing… almost addictive.
If the opportunity was available a year ago, I would have ate a cow.
nowadays, I have to force myself to eat a rollover sandwich.
One piece of wheat bread with grains. Bologna for energy. And mustard to add flavor… plus no cals. Once a day…
They tell me I look so good and want to know my diet and exercise plan. I tell them it’s all about calorie intake.
I’ve lost almost 30lbs in the past two months. My friends are starting to notice. They want to know why i’m wanting to lose so much weight. My mother is oblivious. I feel bad for my boyfriend because I get so tired during sex. What’s sad is I know I’m creating a problem with myself but it feels so good. In a sick way it makes me proud of myself. I have more confidence. I never would have thought I would develop image issues. I know I’m a beautiful girl inside and out. It’s just the fact that I want to be “skinny”.
I feel as if I can be a size three again I’ll be okay. Last month, I told myself I am satisfied being a size six. Nothing is ever enough.
Constant thought in my head “smaller smaller smaller”.
Truth is… I can’t continue this lifestyle.
And yet, seeing my body deteriorate when I look in the mirror makes me feel like a million bucks.