I'm a poster girl with no poster, I am 32 flavours and then some.

When it comes to being me and living inside this shell we call a body, I feel bipolar, undecided, confused. On good days my thoughts and feelings are along the lines of "I love my body because it's mine. No one else's. There is no one who can rape it from me... I am unique and different." On bad days, however, I feel lost. I can hardly read my own thoughts. I can sit and stare blankly, not feeling any comfort whatsoever in this protective shell. It's a very scary thing. It feels like my soul is crying, but for no reason. Since when could aesthetics do this to you? Somehow the word shallow seems too weak for something like this. Eating disorders stay with you forever. They're far from shallow if they affect you this deeply.

When I was first admitted to hospital, I was weak. I thought I would die within an hour. How could I have done this to myself? But something inside me still wanted to starve, wanted to faint, wanted to know I was more "pure" than everyone else walking around me. And what for? In exchange for my life? It seems absurd. So why is it so hard? By the end of my hospital stay I was so depressed about having to stay there that I was going to slit my wrists in agony. [Of course, the eating disorder ward is shared with the psychiatric ward so this was impossible what with the lack of sharp objects, but you get my drift.] I hated being there. I would rather recover. So I did. But within a month of being normal I relapsed. Luckily I was caught by my doctor and forced to recover from my mini spell. From then on I was a good girl. But now I can feel the feelings I felt before. I'm trying so hard. But my anorexic self may very well get the best of me.

It constantly feels as if I'm being stared at. I've lost all confidence and self-assurance, and am going through a spell of the discomfort. My body isn't mine anymore. My mind is drifting through a state of abandon. To think it started with a diet just baffles me. It seems way too much for that. Being thin isn't worth all this loss. So why can't I believe that? This stupid disease has made me self obsessed. Pitiful. A horrible ballet dancer. You know, there used to be some hope for me, somewhere out there. But now... I feel gone. If only being "fat" was the "in" thing.

Reading back on this, I feel like an idiot. I almost lost my life for this shallowness. But it still can't change me and my ignorant ways.

And I love you to the bones...

ellemalen

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