It consumes me. This desire to be skinny, small, too small. Even though I see the numbers get lower, I feel like I look the same. It frustrates me. How I feel like I’m the one who works so hard so I should have the skinniest legs. Perhaps the most disturbing part is the competition aspect. When I look at a girl and see that I’m skinner I feel like I’m winning. I almost want to giver her a sly smile (and sometimes do) that says, “See what happens when you work hard?” Conversely, seeing girls smaller than me is the absolute worst. And whenever I see a girl that is so bony it looks like I could snap her in half, I am completely envious of her and feel a burning hatred inside myself.
Who am I? What’s wrong with me that I feel this way? I remember as a child when food didn’t consumer my mind and it wasn’t at all a highlight in my life. But back then I had an amazing metabolism too. I could overeat 24/7 and not gain a pound on my extremely small frame.
Now I’m on a quest to be perfect. Perfect is the unreachable goal that I know I can’t get to but I’ll never stop trying to reach. So I’ll continue. I’ll continue counting my calories and not eating more than one thousand a day. I’ll continue over-exercising. I’ll continue abusing Vyvanse and other drugs. I’ll continue to feel uncomfortable in my own skin and embarrassed by who I’ve become. Maybe one day I’ll look in the mirror and realize this girl isn’t me, but that day is not today.