Someways, i punish myself by eating too much.
Other days, I punish myself by not eating at all.
Either way, I call it control.
But it feels like drowning.

The mirror isn’t glass anymore,
It’s a weapon.
A judge.
A liar I keep believing.

It whispers,
“Too much”
“Not enough”
“Look at you”
So I look.
Too long.
Too often.
Until the reflection wraps int something monstrous I swear wasn’t there yesterday.

I swing between hunger and shame.
Between craving comfort and punishing myself for needing at all.

I eat and hate myself.
I starve and hate myself.
It’s never really about food.
It’s about guilt.
I skip meals and call it discipline.
I binge and call it failure.

If you’ve never hated your own body,
Really hated it, then you wont understand how deep it goes.
But if you do, if it feels familiar.
I see you.
And I hope one day you’ll look in the mirror and see something kinder.
Something whole.
Something worth saving.
Because you are.