An inanimate object controlled my life.

A journal entry I wrote in 2017

An inanimate object controlled my life.
during my eating disorder.

i never knew that an inanimate object could be my biggest enemy. it’s digital numbers and cold glass front give me chills every time i stepped on it. closing my eyes praying the numbers would go down. breathe i tell myself as i look at the numbers. just breathe. “it’s okay” is the first thing i say as i try to calm myself. the numbers went up instead of going down. “i’ll just skip lunch or maybe eat half of dinner” is a common phrase i think while reassuring myself that i WILL go down again. Every time i start to feel hunger, i tell myself i will go another jean size up, anyway i feel prettier when i’m hungry. pretty hurts, right? i first got the idea of “skinny” when i heard the doctor say 127 pounds. Chills ran down my spine as i heard these horrifying words. i felt i had to do something. i couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. I was disgusted. slowly, i stopped eating. inch by inch, i started losing weight. i loved how i looked after the first few shedded pounds. i need to lose more to look picture perfect. my clothes started fitting loose and my face started looking thinner. people started noticing, and i loved it. questions started flooding in, “how did you lose weight to fast?” “just changed my diet”, i would say. i couldn’t let anyone know my secret. but there were consequences to my actions. i would often feel week and i would get sick very easily. the dark circles under my eyes became more visible and i was easily fatigued with doing minimal activity. soon, my collar bones became visible and so did my rib cage. i looked sort of scary. it’s not enough. not till i looked like a bobble head i told myself. i thought maybe if i was skinny, boys would like me. all my friends had boys begging on their knees for them, but I didn’t. I wanted to make all my friends envy me. all I want is to be beautiful. all I want is for a boy to look at me like i’m the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen. but they don’t. so i’ll try my best to make them. when girls talk about their boyfriends, it makes me very insecure. almost as if nobody notices me. it sounds shallow i know, but there’s this longing. it’s just stays in my heart, and it won’t go away











Read next: Never In the Cover of Night
Chloe Robles
See all posts by Chloe Robles