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#1 TheSadnessWillLastForever



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Posted 18 April 2021 - 02:55 PM

When I was a real girl things were easy. Laughing and joking and friends came naturally to me. It was three meals a day, eating normally. Where did it all go wrong? Somewhere along the way something happened to make everything change but I can't seem to figure out what it was and I’m starting to lose touch on what’s real. But maybe I'll be able to heal if I can just go back to the times before all this struggle and all this hurt. When I was a real girl things were good. I had parents who I knew loved me which is how it should be. We were together and we were happy. Why did it all have to fall apart? Because now we’re nothing more than a broken family. Strangers living in the same house because daddy had to leave mother’s cold arms and find love somewhere else. But where does that leave me? No longer a real girl. A wintergirl. A shell of who I used to be. An empty shell that forgot how to eat. Starving all day just to come home and see if the number on the scale which I am defined by has changed. Exercising in the early hours of the morning and late at night until I’m weak. Until it becomes difficult to walk because I'm shaking. No longer strong enough to carry myself around or talk because my mind always drifts off and I forget what I’m saying as I’m right in the middle of saying it. Hair falling out so easily because I'm playing with it. Shivering from the constant cold. Feeling older than I am because I’m always tired. It’s the kind of fatigue that’s worse than feeling weak. It's the kind of exhaustion that makes me not care about life or death anymore. Because I’m a wintergirl, I look to the scale to see what I’m worth. I live in constant fear of the number that will appear because if it gets too high than my self-esteem gets low leaving room for my self-hatred to grow and develop into the fuel that I use to feed my self-destruction. Because how am I supposed to know without any instruction that being beautiful is much more than being skinny. And making excuses is too easy. Especially when they don't care to pay enough attention to me. Saying “No thank you.” And “I already ate.” every time someone offers me food makes me want to cry. Because I want to eat so badly and the smell of that food is killing me but I’m already too fat and disgusting to even take one bite. And I can’t even look at food or I’ll break down and eat and I’ll eat too much. Then comes the shame depression and panic from the weight ill gain and from when I see the number on the scale go up. I don't know why I have to do any of this to finally feel some sense of self-worth but it’s the only thing I have anymore. Now that I’m a wintergirl, I think bones are the most beautiful things on earth. The day I see mine will be a happy day for me. The day I can finally feel free and light. Because my eyes are broken and I’ve known this all along. You say the reflection I see in the mirror isn’t right because my mind is distorted, twisted, contorted, but who gets to say which images are wrong? Because you can’t see my eating habits aren’t the only things that are disordered. You don’t understand how my disease lifts the chains that restrain me, releasing my mind so I can take hold of my sanity. You are blind to what it is I have to look at. You are deaf to this voice in my head constantly screaming that I’m too fat. You can’t grasp why I would do this to myself? I’m worthless. I embrace the sick pleasure I get from an empty stomach. I find comfort in the darkness. And what would you do if you lived with what I live with every day? You would do the same damn thing so that maybe one day you can look in the mirror and not be ashamed. Because the one thing I want more than anything in the world is to be happy with myself, a wintergirl.
~K.L. ~

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