I Have An Eating Disorder And I Refuse To Let It Kill Me

Even at my lowest, the number on the scale never seemed low enough... but was it ever worth the risk of losing my life?

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I looked down at my thumb today. I know haven’t been eating enough. I told everyone I would get all my vitamins and calories in. I totally wanted to eat more of the guacamole I bought the other day, but I counted what I had eaten and those numbers seemed a little too high. I decided I didn’t need the extra helping, so I went to bed and the guacamole went bad.

Right now, there’s this vein popping out in my hand. I’ve never seen it before. Have I lost more weight? I just rushed into the bathroom, and I pulled my shirt up. I realize my ribs are nearly xylophones they’re so prominent now.

My breasts are all but gone. Even at my lowest weight at 17, I know I was a cup size B. I don’t know if I would fit into a training bra from Target from when I was 10 right now.

The pants I’m wearing are a size two. They keep slipping down my body. I pull them up. They slide back down. It hurts to sit now. My ass is only bones. I know the next thing I’m about to do is the worst for me. Yet, I still do it.

I turn sideways and see my stomach. It’s not flat. I try to fight the voice, but it takes over.

Everything else is small now, why is my stomach not flat?

I fight back. It’s organs. People with reproductive systems have organs. I’m on my period. Of course, I would be a little more bloated anyway. These organs are keeping me alive. This uterus is working. I want kids someday, right?

The voice kicks back in: It would ruin your body. Your stomach. And why is it not flat, anyhow?

Shut up. I didn’t even eat today. My stomach is empty.


I pull my shirt down and leave the hell-scape that is my own bathroom mirror before the voice has more to say. Then, I settle back into bed. I know I shouldn’t, I know I start comparing my body over the years, but I scroll through old photos anyway.

I stop at one from the beach in 2018, one I realize I don’t look at often. It was a true off-guard moment from the beach. I was wearing a blue bikini, and I was smiling. Really smiling.

I was running my hand through my hair, my posture wasn’t perfect, and my stomach was… not flat. I hated that set of pictures when I first saw them. My body didn’t look good enough. My hair was too messy. My smile was so goofy looking, my crooked teeth on display. I have a different thought today…

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