Seriously, the TW is obvious.

So, this is not a post about how I eat now. This is a post about when I was in college, depressed as all fuck, and not eating . I drank water or vitamin water (back when I thought that was a legit source of vitamins) and ate a single slice of bread with peanut butter (because carbs and protein meant I didn't have a problem, right). I exercised constantly, or lied in bed watching Gilmore Girls on repeat.

I'm 5'4. I got down to all of 135. My thighs still rubbed together. My stomach still pooched over my jeans.

I went on pro-anorexia websites for tales of people who were like me. Somewhere out there, you could probably find my old profile on several sites, begging for people to tell me eventually I'd be able to feel my bones. Sobbing because my roommate was institutionalized for getting down to 80 pounds and being told that if she didn't eat 5,000 calories a day, she'd die. I was jealous. That, to me, was proof of success. I wasn't in denial about what was wrong with me, my body was. My hips and belly being, as I had been told since I was 12, perfect for childbearing. My family telling me that us Irish Catholics are built like that and it's not worth fighting. Why couldn't it listen to me? Why wouldn't it get so I could count the notches in my spine, like I could my roommate's?

Nine years later, I'm straight up fat. Not just the 5'4, 135 I was then, I'm somewhere between 170 and 180. I still don't eat very much, but I can't count calories. The second I start, I fall into a pit of self-loathing.

I haven't tried to date in over a year, because I am petrified that I'm too fat to love. A boy I like went out of his way to walk me to the train station after work today. I can't let myself get my hopes up. He works out. I'm too soft. I have stretch marks that aren't the sign of motherhood, just of food.

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A dear friend of mine started talking about her weight loss tonight, and instead of being supportive and happy for her, I devolved into this shame spiral. I think it might be partially fueled by the fact that I can't find a job, I'm single, and money is always a concern. But in a span of five minutes, I went from being thrilled that I did something adult like file my taxes to this pathetic mess you see before you now.

I just had to get that out.