OH you look so skinny! 

The words sear into my brain until it’s all I can think about. It’s the first time anyone, besides my husband, has offered their observation on my appearance in months. Finally. Finally, someone has noticed. 

I am walking the thinnest line. I’ve arrived here unintentionally, I didn’t mean to lose this weight but now that I have, I don’t want to stop. Cue: every disordered eating habit breaking out from beneath the dust that has accumulated over the past 1.5 years. Front and center. Waiting to be the coping mechanism winner. 

I had a panic attack yesterday. That hasn’t happened in awhile. It was the kind where it felt like my throat was closing further with each breath and so I was afraid to breath. 

I’ve arrived here by accident. By accident, I swear. None of my clothes fit. The scale keeps dropping. I keep running. And I can never find anything for lunch. Nothing sounds good. Somewhere inside I can hear this is a problem but it’s distant and overrun with you’re so skinny. 

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