nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.

Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.

That's what I thought my life would be like when I looked into my future. I stared into the crystal ball, and saw myself thin. Beautiful. Happy. I saw myself shedding pounds and learning to not need food. I thought I would have beautiful thin friends who didn't need to eat either. I thought I'd be the girl who would love eating carrots for lunch because I'd be with thin beautiful people who ate only carrots too. Grilled cheese? Disgusting. Pizza? Repulsive. Thin girls don't need these things to live. Thin girls don't crave these things. Thin girls don't need to eat because they're too busy being thin and beautiful and going to parties and having hot boyfriends. I saw myself as one of these thin girls.

Fast forward one year.

Fuck you crystal ball, you were wrong. I should have never believed your lies. I went through a year of torturous hard work. Hours at the gym, hours spending time planning healthy meals and eating things to make me thin. Hours in front of the mirror and on the scale. Hours, and hours, and hours.
But I guess you weren't all wrong crystal ball. I was thin. (100 pounds thinner to be exact). I was beautiful. I did have beautiful thin friends.
But was I happy? No. Did I live off of carrots for lunch? Sometimes. But did I enjoy it? No. Maybe for a moment I was happy, happy that i could fit into cute clothes, and that boys finally wanted me. But when all the superficial glam wore off, and I stared at myself in the mirror, that happiness I had worked for wasn't there. I was empty. I was sad. And worse of all, I still wanted food more than anything. Being thin tasted good, but food still tasted good too.
And that's when my crystal ball became something else. I gave up on staring into a crystal ball, and started staring into the crystal clear water of a toilet instead.
And again, temporary happiness. I could have the food, and the thin lifestyle I wanted. But as time wears on, and you get tired and worn out, and the happiness that's shoveled in your mouth gets purged out and leaves you with nothing but sadness and anger and pain.
But I couldn't stop. I'm weak. Food keeps calling my name. And so does thin. And I give into both of them. I get down on my knees and give them both what they want.

But not anymore. Today I'm taking my life back. Today I'm telling food "You keep me alive but do not dictate my life." And I'm telling my crystal ball toilet water, "Fuck you, you can't tell me who I'll be anymore." And I'll take my life one day at a time, living in the present for me. Not for my disorder. Will it be hard? Yes. Can I do it? I'm sure as hell going to try. And I hope you do to.