How sick is it that I find confessions about eating disorders beautiful? They inspire me, trigger me and make me want to push forward. Reading about hunger pains, about weakness and nightmares about food, it's all beautiful to me, completely perfect.

I used to want to be so strong, afraid of showing a weakness of any kind to anyone, I wanted to be perceived as invincible. Now I just want to be seen as weak and fragile, I want to be protected. I wanted to be treated like a little girl who needs help. I see those ambitions to be strong as a fat girl's way to live and survive, pretending and lying to everyone including herself that she is okay with being huge and never beautiful and fragile. Those two words have basically merged into having the same meaning to me.

Thinking of myself as fat, god, it disgusts me. How could I have lived such a pathetic excuse of a life, with 0 self-control? How do people live without eating disorders? I can't even imagine it anymore.