u know the drill

im the media junkie and the conspiracy theorist

80 Calorie Pancake Recipe~✨💛

if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘food’ labeling some good, some bad as i assign moral value to this grain of rice i might say ‘numbers’ counting, measuring, tracking calories, sizes, BMIs allthetimecalculating everysinglething if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘beauty’ complete devotion, idolization of the western standard begging for others’ envy i might say ‘attention’ desperately needing someone anyone, to notice me at all to see that i am unwell, to care if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘control’ the sick, sick result of discipline gone sour a curdling obsession i might say ‘guilt’ over being too big too plain too comfortable too needy too me if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘anger’ hating the injustice of living hating everything, everyone including myself i might say ‘pain’ a way to transpose the scars of my soul onto the body aching for congruence if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘minimalism’ my mind whirls like a run-on sentence and i can’t stand being wasteful so no thank you i don’t need anything at all really i might say ‘self-righteousness’ i’m parading the streets, declaring my holier-than-thouness because hey look! i’m better at dying than you if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘expectations’ i’ve been naturally small my entire life and now, but now i lose myself when i grow i might say ‘childhood’ reverting to my prepubescent body no breasts and when sex was just a word muddled with giggles if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘addiction’ a habit that can’t be kicked craving the buzz, the high of manipulating my insides i might say ‘death’ i’m not that happy anyway so why not drive my body to the edge, tempting it to quit? if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say nothing because i do not know it’s not like it matters because you don’t ask because you don’t know either

My seventeen-year-old son, Chase, and his friends are in the family room watching a movie. […] I stand at the door and peek inside. The boys are draped all over the couch. The girls have arranged themselves in tidy, tiny, roly-poly piles on the floor. My young daughters are perched at the feet of the older girls, quietly worshipping.

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