I've been out of therapy for over 2 years.
As far as my parents are concerned-
my self hatred was just a blimp.
A spot in my seemingly perfect high school career.
I pulled over a 4.0 so I must be okay.
She got a boyfriend.
She got healthy.
She must love herself now.
Little do they know-
my pulse still quickens at the mere thought,
of tearing into my own flesh.
My body pumps with adrenaline if I don't automatically push the idea away.
Sorry mom.
Sorry dad.
I'm not really all that better.
Just better at lying.