I’ve just gotten back from my run. I’m up to seven miles, and I’m way below my high school weight. This evening as I headed to my condo some guy even honked at me.
I look at myself in the mirror. Another twelve pounds and I’ll be down a whole dress size. Still, my butt looks huge. Maybe I’ll just skip dinner.
I take a shower. It’s cool I can count my ribs now, and I definitely have high def collar bones.
I go try on the dress I bought for Maddie’s wedding. It was tight when I bought it, but it sure isn’t now. Maybe I should return it. Throw it back in that snippy sales girl’s face and tell her I need something smaller than a zero.
That’s me. Smaller than a zero.
Still, I have loose folds of skin over my butt. It’s disgusting. I hate the
way I look. I’m still so fat. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
I hate myself.