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I lost my breasts. I never thought that they were that great to begin with, but when dressed properly, they were okay. Now they need too much help. My upper arms are still flabby. I still have a belly. I am lumpy in places that are not supposed to be lumpy. I am covered in stretch marks, though they are fading and not pink, they are still there. I have terrible skin. I have to spend an unreasonable amount of time fixing it. My thighs are still tree trunks. They are smaller, but still too big. I am mentally unsound, obsessive, contradictory, mean, and lazy. I have food issues now. I never thought that would happen to me, but over the last year and a half, it did. I will still eat Doritos, but I will beat myself up over it for days. I like being alone. I don't like people. I want impossible things.
11:10 a.m. - 2013-01-06
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