When our mind is set in one way, it is easier to live our life.
When our mind is seeing two opposite things, it is draining and difficult.
When anorexia consumed me, it was easy: don't eat.
When my family made me get help, I started seeing another side.
"It is okay to eat".
When your mind is telling you two extreme opposites, it is emotionally and physically draining, makes me tired physically and mentally.
The emotional battle.
The heaviest thing would be the fork to my mouth, to finish the long difficult stride from the fork to my mouth, or to hide the food in my pockets so my family thinks I ate it.
Give in to my stomach roaring like a lion and tame the lion, or to ignore it like how I have usually done and feel myself getting skinnier to give in to the demons.
It was more distinct and different than: night and day, black and white, fire and water.
I was having a civil war with myself,
Constant battling and war in my head
"Eat" or "Don't Eat"
This was much harder than having only one thought in my mind.

My best friend's nickname is Ana.
No one can see her, but only I can feel her, everybody can see her in me.
I take it as a compliment because I am winning.
But everyone who says they love and care for me sees it as me losing and need help.
But I am winning and don't need help, winning at being the skinniest, winning at eating no calories. Winning at seeing and feeling the bones spike through my body. Doing all of this with the help of my best friend Ana. Shes all I need.
Why does everyone say I am losing, when I am winning?

The girl in the mirror will always be a stranger to me
Whenever I see her, it is always mixed feelings
One day, I see her as pretty and confident
(which is a new sight for me to see)
Another day, I see her as someone that no one will ever want to take a double take at
She sometimes looks fat
She sometimes looks skinny
I can see all her physical flaws every time I look at her
Never will I know her

We all have our addictions, whether it's big or small, or good or bad
Growing up, she had her addiction to the normal things:toys, hugs,love
But teenage years came along as well as her hormones
Always hungry
Always eating
One fateful day, someone she loved told her she was fat
Just like that, she changed
Always hungry
Never Eating
Her new addictions: starving, losing weight, coming to love they way her bones spiked through her skin as if they wanted to jump out
We all have our addictions, where it's big or small, or good or bad

Everyone has a general feeling of their own mind
She did not quite understand exactly how her mind was like
Until she started writing down all her feelings
Writing them down felt like she was organizing her own thoughts
Like looking at each small picture and then taking a step back to see the bigger picture, and fully understand it
She finally understood how her mind was like now
Hers felt so much pain and sadness
So gloomy
It was a quiet rain storm
The only thing she heard in her head was the demons telling her:
"don't eat"
"you're not good enough"
"no matter how hard you try to be special and be someone for someone, it will never happen".

I don’t like food.
I don't like the way it makes me feel.
Bloated and fat, and all your eyes seem to stab me.
It makes me
Anxious
Uneasy
Insecure
Ugly
But I come crawling back for more every time
Please just let me starve
Please just give me the strength to push
My finger
A few
millimeters
Further
Into my throat
I’m sorry that I have to survive
I’m sorry I must perform such an
Ugly
Task in front of you
But I am human
And we have to eat.

I am obsessed with my health. Not just simply my health, but my weight, and my eating habits, and my view on life and myself. I am so obsessed that it has now gotten to the point where it is all I think about, and it has become obvious to everyone around me.

I can tell you which lunch ladies at my school won't question your lunch choices, which teachers will let you sit in their classrooms during lunch because you don't want to be around anyone or food; I have memorized restaurant menus, and I can tell you the meals with the lowest amounts of calories. My photo gallery is full of screenshots of healthy, low calorie, low fat, no-sugar recipes that I intend to make when I choose. I follow 177 eating disorders blogs on Tumblr. One of them being my girlfriend, and I get notifications when all of them post anything new. I weigh myself everyday, I know what I am eating two days from now, I overexercise, and I can tell you how many calories are in the 6 200mg ibuprofen I take everyday before facing the world.

I have lost 20 lbs. That doesn't seem like something worth keeping to myself, but it is when you are a high school girl; it is when all girls think the same, and suddenly when they hear numbers, they want to be number 1; they want to be the lowest, to be the winner, to be the most miserable person.

I can tell you exactly what it feels like to be embarrassed of being in your own skin.

I love giving other people food because I want them to remember that food is good for them. I want them to feel as though being given food is a kind gesture, not a last resort.

I love my illness
and I am pretty sure
that it loves me too.

No I am certain
that beyond any doubt
my sickness is the only
true love that I have.

But I do worry and doubt
that it may be the only
love I ever find.

I love it because
maybe it will lead
to another life where
others will love me too.

I'll be able to thank
my one friend for making
all of this possible
for letting me find
others that will
like me for me.

Even if others
never know
that it was really my friend bulimia
that let me
finally be loved by them.

i am a skeleton,
with crumbling bones
and an irregular beating heart
on the brink of collapsing.

i am an ice cold silhouette
of a girl with sunken eyes
and shriveled lungs
slowly shrinking inside
my concaved chest.

my hips protrude like shards of glass,
shattering onto the gaps between my thighs,
and my collarbones
are sharper than knives,
slicing and dicing
a year off my life everyday.

i am a rotten corpse,
with worn out ribs
and a cracked spine
disintegrating into nothing but
ash and dust.

this is what death looks like.

i am not my own.