Every day I wonder if what I’m doing is for others’ satisfaction, and not my own.

Then I tell myself- “Fuck it, you’re gonna die anyway.”

Two days in and I want to die.

Friend: You've lost a lot of weight, I'm proud of you.
Me in my mind: Little do you know, I had to starve myself to get to where I am. I didn't eat as much as I should. I vomited a couple times. I'm not even satisfied with myself yet. I never will. Not until my stomach is hurting so much that I just want to lay down and cry. Not until I get to where I want to be, where I see myself. Sure I went to the gym every day after school when I could and worked my ass off but no, starving myself is what made me lose the weight. So don't be proud of me, I'm a disappointment.
Me: *smiles* Thank you. It takes hard work and dedication. Watching what you eat, and going to the gym a lot. It takes time as well.

Everywhere I go, beautiful girls are talking about diets. I can’t cope. Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.