“I didn't want any flowers, I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free.”

your lowest weight is not a trophy, it doesn’t make you special or better or worse than anyone else, you are no more important, you are no more sick, you are no more accomplished than anyone else because of it. it doesn’t make you lovely, or precious, or dainty or delicate. you were sick. whatever the number you were sick sick sick very, very sick. and you still are. get better so that number no longer defines you.

  • 5 February 2013
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