ruby-read-this

No one tells you that eating disorders don't always arrive like a villain.

Sometimes,

they arrive

like a sister.

Everyone says,

"Starving yourself

is bad."

But they don't hear the reply.

"It's the only thing I can still control."

They say,

"You need food."

"Maybe."

"But control is the only thing

that still feels

like hope."

They say,

"You're going

to die."

"Aren't we all?"

"At least this

makes me feel

lighter

than living does."

No one warns you that one day

it becomes

your therapy.

Your crutch.

The first place

your mind seeks

when the world

becomes too much

No one warns you that it starts commentating on your life.

I dropped

a glass.

Just an accident.

The kind

I've always made.

But I hadn't eaten.

In the loving tone that I crave she whispered,

"See?"

"Look how well

you're doing."

"We'll let this one

slide."

Another day,

the same glass.

The same accident.

Only this time,

I'd eaten.

She says in a way I'm all too familiar with, malice wrapped in sticky sweet 'love'

"Look at you."

"I told you."

"You don't deserve

to be forgiven."

" This would have been forgiven if you didn't eat. But you never listen to me"

The glass was never the problem.

It never cared whether I'd eaten.

But eating disorders have a way of turning

ordinary accidents

into evidence

that they were right

fuck hot girl summer - im waiting in skinny girl autumn - 🪽🍂