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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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