My doctor calls it disordered eating. My therapist called it anorexia with bulimic tendencies. My parents don't understand what it is at all. I call it control. I'm a calorie restricter, a laxie addict, a sometimes puker, a sometimes former cutter, a writer, a sister, a fuck-up of a daughter, but I'm never, ever, just me.
Sunday, July 22
So I can run to catch the bus without worrying about what might jiggle...
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