Damn recovery. It's made me as fat and depressed as ever. I'm healthier, happier and of course skinnier with my eating disorder. I'll first give you a bit of background:
I began my ED in middle school, settling at a comfortable size zero, 103 pounds. Puberty tried to take my body in high school, but I fought it the whole way. Some damaging things happened to me those years, (which I may gain the strength to finally speak about late, but not today) that pushed me over the edge. I got out of control and lost until I was 80 pounds. Collapsing at school of heart failure, I spent most of my senior year in the hospital ... gaining weight. I left the hospital and began college, eventually doubling my body weight.
I've realized recently I have a food addiction, so I really just transferred one extreme (starving) to another (overeating). More miserable than ever, I've made the decision that I'd rather be thin than huge and unhealthy.
You're reading this today because I don't want to go it alone. I want to be myself again. I feel like someone else trapped in another body. My goal? About 100 again. My weapons? A computer, lettuce, water and diet pills ... with a treadmill or two.
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