If you love me, don’t feed me.

Okay, so it’s been a while since I last wrote about the sordid details of my pseudofabulous life, and even then, it was at best shitty because all I could talk about was A. Now that I have my closure [not without a fight], I am now ready to move on. I’m still alone, but what the hey. I’d rather be alone than be with an immature prick who can’t even fight for what he wants. This is actually the first time I’ve thought of him ever since he gave me my closure, and this is because I’ve been preoccupied with something else. My weight.

I used to weigh a whopping 180 lbs. when I was a kid. I became conscious of my weight when I was in high school and I started to take an interest in high fashion. Wanting to be like Gisele Bundchen and Lily Cole sans vagina, I made mad attempts to lose the weight. I didn’t do it the safe way, but I didn’t care. I believe the end justified the means so I had no qualms against starving myself to fit into a double zero. I memorized the calorie content of the food I ate, and there were even times when I didn’t eat at all. It even came to a point that I rationed the water that I drank and I collapsed. I guess you could call me an anorexic, but if that was the price of looking good, I was up for it.

The easiest way that I lost weight was when I had my braces. Before having my braces attached, the dentist advised me to have my molars removed. I had stitches in my mouth for a month and I couldn’t eat anything but soup. I was ecstatic because this would mean another way to lose weight. I dropped to 140, which is skinny for my height of 5’11”. Eventually, I had my braces and though I struggled for a while, I learned to eat with having a construction site in my mouth. Slowly, I gained the weight that I lost.

I’ve tried it all. I starved myself, I went on different diets, I exercised, I went to the gym, I tried diet pills, and I even bought a sauna belt. I’ve never been satisfied with my weight. I guess I was living up to the anorexia’s code of honor: I will never be skinny enough. I’m always on some crazy diet, but I could not stick to it like I did when I was in high school. I always give in when I see food. I like to eat. I love to eat.

Now it’s different. I can commit to my diet. I’m still not doing it the safe way, but it’s not as risky. I eat, but barely. My daily diet would be whatever is prepared for lunch [without rice], and a pack of crackers or biscuits that I would ration until the end of the day. At night, I would drink a bottle of Nature’s Harvest FAB, which tastes really good and has L-Carnitine, fiber, and Vitamin C. I do sit ups and push ups to keep my body toned. Next week, I’m planning to add jogging to my routine.

Some of you may think that my diet is radical. It may be, but I don’t want to waste time. I try to push in different kinds of diets to quicken my weight loss. This week alone, I lost 7 lbs. and I’m happy. I realized that eating makes me happy, but it is a temporary high that goes away as soon as I finish. Seeing myself skinny, bones jutting out everywhere and muscles ripping through my skin is a high that food can’t compete with.

It’s funny how it’s the plus-sized people who love to bash skinny folk but whine when they are being judged. People have their own perception of beauty and I think we should respect that. I don’t have an eating disorder or a distorted view of my body. I just have my own perception. For me, beauty is stick-thin, and I want to be that. If you love me, don’t feed me.

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