the book of fluff (that usually isn't)

empty

i'm sorry eating disorders have been the main thing i've been writing about, truly it's because mine is the only thing i think about anymore and it's literally taking over my life

if you suffer from any eating disorder please seek help, recovery is so worth it you don't deserve to live like this

also if i use your twitter handle please know it's an accident! it was definitely unintentional i tried to think of ones that i haven't seen before but pls don't be offended

also also this is meau. sorry it's kind of a mess i'm not sure i like it but oh well

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trigger warning: anorexia, depression, brief mention of self harm

It was getting harder.

Mitch had been recovered from anorexia for almost four years now, and he rarely experienced the thoughts anymore. When he did, he could easily brush them off. However, as Pentatonix got busier and the fans kept demanding Superfruit videos and Mitch's debut album, the thoughts came much more frequently. Everything felt so out of his control; he was merely a bystander in his own life, forced to go with whatever his manager decided or what the fans wanted. He hated it. He was so desperate to have something under his control again, and the only thing to control was his food. It was getting harder to ignore the voices that told him not to eat his dinner or to exercise in his bunk at night when everyone else was asleep. He wasn't sure he wanted to ignore them anymore.

Eating became a chore again. He didn't enjoy food anymore, and he only continued to eat because Pentatonix was on tour and he really couldn't afford to struggle with his eating disorder. He didn't have time.

It was night now, and everyone else was asleep, but Mitch lay awake in his bunk, scrolling mindlessly through Twitter. He knew he should go to bed, but his mind was too loud and he knew it'd be useless anyway. He really wanted to text Beau, but his anxiety wouldn't let him. He was too scared he'd bother him.

His fans always cheered him up. He decided to scroll through the replies of his most recent tweet, which just so happened to be a photo of himself in Paris for fashion week. A small smile finally formed on his lips when he saw the replies. Almost all of them were nice, and he didn't feel as terrible as he did before. Maybe he didn't suck. Maybe everyone didn't hate him.

@mitchgrassih8er: omg he's gained so much weight ew

That was all it took. His mood plummeted again and he swallowed hard, looking down at himself. He was a healthy weight, right? He had gained weight, but his weight before was too low for his height and he had to to be healthy again. Right?

However, as he scrolled through the replies to the tweet, it only got worse. Sure, most fans were defending him and attacking the person for being so rude, but he could only see the mean ones.

@grassiloverr: @mitchgrassih8er i know right he used to be so tiny now he's huge

@lovelymitchy: @mitchgrassih8er i miss 2016 i miss my tiny baby :((

@kylieptx: @mitchgrassih8er his thighs are literally the size of my entire body now it's gross

@generousgrassi: @mitchgrassih8er omg i know sometimes i wonder how beau can cuddle him considering he's bigger than him

Mitch shut his phone off, his hands shaking. That had to be a sign. He rubbed his eyes against the threatening tears before forcing himself to plug in his phone and curl up, holding a pillow to his chest. They were all right. He couldn't eat anymore, he had to stop fighting the voice and just give in. He would have control again, and he wouldn't be so fucking huge; it was a win win. All he had to do was keep it a secret.