Reality vs Fantasy

My name, the one thing you'll never know, is the only thing that separates reality from this fantasy world I live in. Reality slaps me in the face with words like "perfect does not exist" or "you cannot reach unrealistic goals" or "this disease will kill you." These words tear me down and try to discorage me from trying to be happy once and for all. My fantasy world consists of negative calories, smiles that widen when our bodies decay and heart beats that seem as spaced out as our thighs. I am somewhere inbetween those two worlds, but fantasy has a tighter grip; pulling me out of the dull black and white reality, into the bright colors of fantasy that screams beauty and perfection. Reality tries to fill my skin with fat, making my bones fade, but fantasy tears off the poisonous layers that are inhibiting me from acheiving perfection. My social life is reality and Ana, my secret life, is fantasy. Both build me up and break me down in different ways. To be free of both is literally death, yet to live with both is to follow the road leading to my suicide.