Ever thought about what it would be like?
What it would be like to just finally be in peace?
Instead of having voices screaming at you in your mind 24/7, even when you are sleep. Screaming at you to have control, yelling at you, telling you that you don't need that cookie, *******, or piece of bread.
Reminding you of your goal.
.
The goal that you need to reach to maybe be closer to perfection, rather than what you were.. That horrible lug of fat. The one that no one wants. One that isn't good enough for anyone at all.
I really don't think you understand how close Ana, Mia and I were
Ana well she screamed and yelled, reminding me and pushing me. Telling me that isn't very Chanel. And that hunger? Yea that hunger was really my stomach applauding.
It didn't matter that I could have died during the process, just as long as I had that thigh gap, could count every rib and place my fingers on the hills and valleys that I had created on my body, to have those collarbones and have that defined jawline.
Just to be skinny.
To be a 00 and to weigh 80 pounds. Because I could do it. Always telling me not to eat those calories so I wouldn't become fat, even though it wasn't possible to be fatter than I was then. McDonald's nope. Any fast food joint ew, gross.
How dare you go near there you failure, is what she whispered to me.
Those were the things she said. The words that she spoke of day in, day out.

But then there were the other cravings of going and eating everything that I saw in sight, as if I wasn't going to eat for months. That's where Mia comes in, she was just as much of a ***** as Ana. It's was a constant cycle with her. Up and down..non-stop. A roller coaster, that never stopped and was greater than any Leviathan or Behemoth that possibly existed. With more loops and spins and craziness that made you sick to your stomach because once I'd eaten all that food, well of course Mia wouldn't let me keep it down, and quite honestly Ana agreed.  Tea, coffee, zero calories, they are my best friend.
500 calories max a day. The workouts were my second best friend. Numbers was what my life consisted off.
Goal One:100
Goal Two:95
Goal Three:85
Goal Four:80
The voices screamed at me reminding me. Failure..failure...failure. It got so loud inside of my head. Their whispers sounded like screams. I'd lost count on the amount of times I had run to the washroom to get it out of my system, out of my disgusting body. How many times had I lied about eating, how many times did I throw out food? And the pathetic thing was, I didn't want to recover. Why? because I would have preferred to die than gain weight. I would of rather died than eat three meals a day. I would have rather died than be forced to eat. I was just another ****** up teenage girl listening and obeying the mirror.