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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2055544-The-Inside-Looking-Out
Rated: 13+ · Prose · Dark · #2055544
A story of my experience going through an eating disorder and coming to terms with it
It's a sickness. There's really no other way to put it-- It's a sickness in every sense of the word. The symptoms usually go unnoticed until it's too late. Before you even realize it, it's already crawled deep inside the farthest corners of your brain and rooted itself there. Then it begins to consume you. It happens slowly at first, then all at once. First to go is the weight--not so much as to cause alarm, but enough to entice you with that first taste of what it feels like; a gateway drug that is so potent only one hit is enough to cascade you into a downward spiral that will alter your life forever. There's no other feeling like it. You feel good. You feel beautiful. You feel powerful. After that, you're hooked.

Next to go is your confidence and clear judgment. You start to feel guilty for things that used to feel normal--eating a big meal, missing a workout... even feeling full. I used to feel disgusted with myself if I wasn't constantly hungry. Your self-esteem plummets and you begin to see everything in a negative light. You start to seclude yourself from the outside world and distance yourself from the people who care about you. They don't understand. They don't know how it feels. You begin to resent them for their concern. They're overreacting, they're just jealous, they are wrong. You don't have a problem; you're just living a healthier lifestyle.

Then comes the paranoia. You start to worry that everyone is staring at you and judging you--for being too thin, for being something they don't understand; a monster in their eyes. You convince yourself that they know what you are--they know your secrets, they know your heart. But then you start to justify all your crazy actions. You make excuses for things like not eating--"I had that cookie yesterday, so I'll skip lunch today." You can't even remember at what point you stopped feeling comfortable in your own skin.

The last thing to go is your sense of self. The person you once were fades away until there's nothing left but the sickness, angry and all consuming as it eats away at your self-worth, your happiness, your peace. The things in your life you used to enjoy no longer hold any appeal. You can't remember why they ever did. The only thing in the world that brings you even the briefest feeling of joy is feeling thin--that irresistible feeling of beauty, of power. Whether it be after a long, hard workout or a day of not eating, the high is the only thing that matters--it makes it all worth it. But that feeling doesn't always come; in fact, it's so rare that you spend about 90% of the time feeling absolutely miserable. Your whole entire being is focused on that next hit--the next workout, the next opportunity to deny yourself and bask in your supreme self-control. Sometimes no matter what you do, no matter how little you eat or how many calories you burn you still feel fat. Those are the worst days.

But that only feeds the addiction. Your life has turned into little more than a never-ending cycle of diet and exercise, sleep and repeat. It's all that concerns you, all that pleases you. It's what you live for. Not before long, you've faded into a hollow shell of the person you used to be. One day people will tell you how they watched as the light left your eyes, how you never seemed to be fully present. Life seems to lose its meaning--you begin to question the point of it all because you can't see so far as past your next workout. The future is no longer this bright, exciting beacon that's full of wonder and possibilities. It just seems a distant, obscure entity; too far removed from real life to devote any thought or attention to.

Finally one day you'll look in the mirror and find a stranger staring back at you. Who is this girl? You don't recognize her--her face is drawn and pale; her once bright eyes now gaze listlessly back at you from two sunken holes within her skull. She tries at a smile, but it's the farthest thing from happy, never reaching her eyes. The tears start slowly--it's been a while since any sign of emotion cracked through her mask. They trickle steadily down as the reality of what you've done hits you. You have been betrayed by yourself. No one ever warns you that it's possible to break your own heart. They come faster still as you realize you've been locked inside your own goddamn prison. Your own living hell. And the shame. The shame pierces sharp as a knife because you know you can't stop it--you know you can't stop.

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