Honestly, you guys probably don't even care where I've been. I highly doubt anybody cares enough to even open this set. But yet, I find myself writing this. Maybe it's just because I need closure. Because truthfully, I don't really think I'm back for good. I'm still struggling with my demons and I just can't seem to shake them off. I wish they would just go away. Thinking back, it must have started in June. I don't know how it happened, but I became obsessed with pro ana websites. I would stalk the pro ana tag on tumblr and constantly look at thinspo. I didn't really act on anything, though. I don't even know why I looked. To me, the girls just looked like underfed, decaying skeletons. I couldn't look at them without feeling the urge to throw up. I grew out of it after a couple of weeks, luckily. I remember September. Mid September, to be exact. That's when I started calorie counting. Honestly, I don't even know why i started in the first place. I was pretty happy with my body (I was about 105 pounds at 5'7, just to get a visual.) I started out eating 1,200 calories a day. I don't really remember it happening, but somehow, by October I had decreased my calorie count. By the end of the month I was eating about 600 calories a day. I'd struggled with mild depression before, but in early October it seemed to have returned. And then November. Ah, November. The month all the hell broke loose. By this point, I was eating 300 calories a day at most, although usually I just ate a bag of baby carrots. Let's just say some sh*t happened that month that I really don't want to go into. Also, keep in mind that I have struggled with severe anxiety for the past few years which made this even harder on me. I can honestly say that November was one of the toughest years of my life. Around this time I dropped down to 95 pounds (I was 5'8 by this time). My goal weight was 88 pounds. I know 95 pounds sounds deathly tiny, but honestly, that's not what I saw. That's still not what I see. When I look in the mirror, I see rolls of fat dripping down my stomach. I feel a strong sensation of putrid just looking at myself in the mirror. It's horrible. There is a voice in my head that tells me I'm not good enough. That I don't deserve to eat. I try to ignore it, but the voice is too strong. It always wins.The last 5 months have blurred into each other to the point that I can barely remember anything. I've recently started to increase my calorie count due to health issues. However, it's a day by day struggle. Some days, I will feel freed from the voice and won't even worry about calories. But most days, it's not like that. it's a vision of bones and despair as I cry to myself. Maybe you can learn something from my story. Maybe you'll rethink next time you call somebody fat. Sure, it might just be a joke, but you never know how much it will hurt them.
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