Eat.

I can't eat.

Well, technically I can, the whole 'chew chew swallow' thing is easy enough to understand, but that's not exactly the point. See, I know HOW to eat, I just don't WANT to. I understand that without eating, my body will slowly start to eat away at my muscles and organs that keep me running, I just don't really care, if I die; I die. End of story.
My family cares however. My mother keeps a close watch on me whenever she can, telling me to 'eat more' or 'did you have enough calories for the day?'. To keep her happy, I have at least 600 calories a day, give or take.
The thought of the food I'm eating makes me disgusted. It makes me feel useless and lazy, my whole body lashes out into a wave of self-hate whenever I finish a meal. To numb this feeling, I will work out for an hour, hopefully burning off whatever amount of food I had consumed earlier. It's the only way I can eat, or so the only way I will eat.

A few days ago, my mother told she would have to contact someone if I didn't stop this phase I have going on. We fought about it, she arguing that if I continued like this I would surely get sick. And me, shouting how I don't need the help because this is the only way I can feel good about myself. I can't change how fast my hair grows, how tall I will be when I'm older, but what I can change is my weight. And it feels pretty damn good to be able to change something, no matter the risk.

Anyway, this is dragging on. May as well end it here.

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