Another Day

Fat people bother me.

I can't help it, maybe it's because I used to be fat, maybe not, but they bother me. When I was fat, I bothered me.

And now, I can't stand their sight. When my friend Robert shoves a brownie in his mouth without pausing to taste it, I want to strangle him.

But do you want to know what's worse? I want to be him.

I want to eat with that kind of reckless abandon and relish every bite. I want to not worry about calories, carbs, or trans fats.

I've even considered taking up smoking even though I have asthma just to stay thin.

When I wake up and my tummy is flat and my rounded hip bones peek out on the sides, I giggle in glee.

And the sad thing is that the more I lose weight, the more people say "Oh my god, you're so thin, you're like a model," which in turn makes me think that if I become healthy and fain good weight then I won't be beautiful anymore.

I'm scared I have a colon illness (ulcerative colitis) but I don't want to see a doctor and get treated because treatment will make me gain weight (weight that I need to gain).

But above all I like the attention. I like when people pinch me and can't find the fat, or when I turn down free food, or I try on clothes.

There's something wrong with me, isn't there?