People Take The Feeling Of Full For

I Have Never Been Normal About My Body. It Has Always Seemed To Me A Strange And Foreign Entity. I Don't Know That There Was Ever A Time When I Was Not Conscious Of It. As Far Back As I Can Think, I Was Aware Of My Own Corporeality, My Physical Imposition On Space.

The Term “starvation Diet” Refers To 900 Calories A Day. I Was On One-third Of A Starvation Diet. What Do You Call That? One Word That Comes To My Mind: “suicide.

My Bones Are Brittle, My Heart Weak And Erratic, My Esophagus And Stomach Riddled With Ulcers, My Reproductive System Shot, My Immune System Useless... I'm Not Going To Have A Happy Ending.

If I Had Been A Different Sort Of Person, Maybe Less Impressionable, Less Intense, Less Fearful, Less Utterly Dependent Upon The Perceptions Of Others - Maybe Then I Would Not Have Bought The Cultural Party Line That Thinness Is The Be-all And End-all Of Goals. Maybe If My Family Had Not Been In Utter Chaos Most Of The Time, Maybe If My Parents Were A Little Better At Dealing With Their Own Lives Maybe If I'd Gotten Help Sooner, Or If I'd Gotten Different Help, Maybe If I Didn't So Fiercely Cherish My Secret, Or If I Were Not Such A Good Liar, Or Were Not Quite So Empty Inside... Maybe.

The Idea Of My Future Simultaneously Thrilled And Terrified Me, Like Standing At The Lip Of A Very Sheer Cliff- I Could Fly, Or Fall. I Didn't Know How To Fly, And I Didn't Want To Fall. So I Backed Away From The Cliff And Went In Search Of Something That Had A Clear, Solid Trajectory For Me To Follow, Like Hopscotch.