don't you dare tell me to love myself
when you can’t even love me yourself.
my heart is heavy. as heavy as i’ve become.
last time i was at this weight (a decade ago) i descended into the darkness of my eating disorder and swore never to be at this weight again.
the people around me say that i’m healthy again. i say i’m just fat.
i’m hoping that it’s just a bad day.. bad week.. bad month, but it feels much bigger that an everyday emotion that will pass like they tell you it will.
it’s been a while since i’ve heard my eating disorder speak, but it’s here with me tonight and it’s telling me that everything will be alright.
i believe it.
i’m not in therapy right now because i don’t want to be. because it means either spending thousands and thousands of dollars to get treatment from someone who knows what they’re doing when it comes to eating disorders (which isn’t actually an option because i can’t afford it), or getting free treatment from someone who seems to have no idea whatsoever about the complexities of eating disorders. needless to say, the latter is pointless.
maybe it will all be okay. just like my eating disorder says.