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27 February 2014 @ 09:56 pm
Anorexia Monologue ( Viewpoint: Myself )  
The mirror is my enemy. My reflection my nemesis. I can't even lie to myself, the person I find most disgusting is the one that stares back at me through the reflective glass. This thought and this thought alone influences every decision I will ever make from that dark corner it resides in my mind, just out of reach but close enough to cause damage. Such trivial things had never bothered me yet time took its toll, and as I grew older I watched as the friends I had surrounded myself with since childhood transformed into the beautiful swans that I so admired while I, I was the ugly duckling, the shapeless circle in a crowd of slender figures. I grew desperate, and the solution was simple - food equaled weight, and weight was bad. Cut out food, I would be happy. It started with skipping a few meals a day, and when that failed to produce the results I so very much desired I started going entire days with no more than water and fruit in my stomach. Soon, it became an obsession, to the point where I couldn't stop. The prominent ribs were my trophy, rapidly receding waistline my reward for doing a good job at avoiding this basic human requirement, of which my mind had brainwashed me into thinking it was wicked and evil. I was proud. Yet... yet it still wasn't enough. I had to go further and now I sit, shattered to pieces, hating every fiber of my very existence because of what I just did in the bathroom. The body I so desperately wanted no longer looked as glamorous as the media had made it out to be and I found I hated myself more now than I ever had. I realize I have long since lost control of the situation. It is no longer myself in charge, it is the voice in my head that constantly repeats: you are simply not good enough.