Meg Crawshaw
Stories (1/0)
There’s a Demon on My Back
Something inside me was blunt: my eating disorder had separated me from the real world and I was living inside its perpetual bubble. My world was the echo after the firework: there, but only sort of. Not the real thing. Not reality. The muffled goings on of day-to-day life didn’t touch me if I had anorexia to play with. Akin to a drug addict, weight loss was my high. If I didn’t get my fix daily my world would crumble. I wouldn’t be able to leave my room for fear that people could ‘tell’ that I had failed. Anorexia would create looks of disgust and judgement that I now realise didn’t even exist. If I did lose weight the only thing that could possibly worry me was how to lose more by the next day. I felt like I did not have a choice.
By Meg Crawshaw6 years ago in Psyche