Don't Eat.

Liar. (Read until end.)

"You're getting better!" Everyone seems to think. Are you really? Hell fucking no. You'll never get better and you know it. You'll always be that fat, disgusting pig you've always loathed. But will you pretend to get better? Of course you will. "No, I haven't purged since I've gotten out of the hospital!" You'll say, watching the light in your girlfriends eyes shine because she's so proud of you. It's all a lie though. You're living a lie. You thought you'd get better? No. You're an idiot, you're falling back into that spiral of lies. You've been purging at least three times a day. But will you continue to lie and pretend like you've made good progress. And you'll encourage your friend to get better and say you're getting better with her, but are you actually? No. Because you're a liar. You always have been and you always will be. Why are you hiding it this go around? Maybe you want it to actually consume you this time. This deadly disease you know will be the thing to kill you. You want it to, don't lie even more. I know you. I know how you think. You want to die and you want your eating disorder to be the one to kill you.

Oh.

You think this is all because you want to be thin.

Haha. Silly little girl.

It's because you want to be dead.

You don't care about being thin anymore, it's because you like tasting death. You tell the therapist that you don't think about dying anymore, but in reality that's all you think about. You think about that cardiac arrest that's mere minutes away and you relish in that thought. You can't wait to die, can you? Why do you want to die so badly? It's the cowards way out they say. Bullshit. It's the only way out. Or at least you think so.

So yeah, continue not eating and purging and lying. See how long it is until you end up in the morgue. You've always had a fascination in death. Maybe it's because of what you strive to be. Dead. You're killing yourself and you don't care. You do it out of spite and self hatred. I know what you're thinking, how you think, and the thoughts that run through your mind. I know how you're a liar. I know. You know how I know?

Because I am you.

I'm the author.

The one writing this.

The one pretending like its all a work of fiction and not a hell they have to survive everyday.

"It's a collection of people's thoughts" you say.

No it's not.

It's yours.

It always has been.

All about you.

You're a liar, author.

This isn't fiction.

It's your reality.

The one you're living in right now.

As you type this, you're suffering the consequences.

It's all been your story. It's always been your thoughts and yours alone.

It's been your coping mechanism, your own personal trigger.

You're a liar, author.

For pretending you're getting better.

You never will be better and you know that, yet you still write this as an insolence.

You'll die soon, you know you will.

Have fun in that grave, author.

This is what you get for lying.

It's all reality, none of it is fiction.

This is the harsh, cruel reality of an eating disorder. Have fucking fun with it, author and readers.