Status: On hiatus - don't know if it'll ever be finished tbh
Fat
Thursday 12 April
I’m 37.5 kilos now. The nurses made me do a Body Mass Index test today, so they measured my height and my weight. Apparently I’m 5 feet and 3 inches tall, and 37.5 kilos. That means my BMI is 14.64, and that’s apparently really below average. They want it to be around 19, which is “normal”. Yeah right. I don’t believe that. They’re lying. I know they are. 14 is probably very normal. 19 is obese. They want to make me fatter. They’re trying to make keep me ugly.
They want me to put on another 12 kilos. I’ve done the maths. I’ll be enormous. I already am enormous. All I see when I look in the mirror is blubber. I see my thighs touching and my stomach in rolls of fat. I don’t understand how anyone can think I’m thin. I’m disgusting. I can’t believe Lucas can even stand to be around me. He’s so beautiful. No beautiful person should be around someone as disgusting as me. I still can’t believe that he was bulimic though. I bet he’s always been beautiful but just couldn’t see what everyone else saw. I know I’m ugly, and so does everyone else. I know it, even if they don’t say it. They lie to me too much because they want me to eat, but I don’t want to.
I’ve told all of this to my therapist. She’s the only person I think I can tell. She doesn’t lie to me, and she doesn’t disagree with what I say either. She just listens. She knows that I’m ugly and isn’t afraid to inadvertently tell me by not saying anything. She said she thinks I have this thing called Body Dysmorphia. I don’t know what that means and I didn’t bother to ask. I don’t care, but it’s probably got something to do with how I got so fat and horrible.
Maybe it’s like thyroid and just makes people put on weight like crazy? It doesn’t matter anyway; I’m not going to research it. I’ll just let the therapist think what she wants.
Which reminds me: I’m meant to be there now, for group therapy. I hate group therapy, especially because of that guy who keeps staring at Lucas. He glares at me a lot, and it makes me scared.
Ugh, they’re calling my name. Kill me.
They want me to put on another 12 kilos. I’ve done the maths. I’ll be enormous. I already am enormous. All I see when I look in the mirror is blubber. I see my thighs touching and my stomach in rolls of fat. I don’t understand how anyone can think I’m thin. I’m disgusting. I can’t believe Lucas can even stand to be around me. He’s so beautiful. No beautiful person should be around someone as disgusting as me. I still can’t believe that he was bulimic though. I bet he’s always been beautiful but just couldn’t see what everyone else saw. I know I’m ugly, and so does everyone else. I know it, even if they don’t say it. They lie to me too much because they want me to eat, but I don’t want to.
I’ve told all of this to my therapist. She’s the only person I think I can tell. She doesn’t lie to me, and she doesn’t disagree with what I say either. She just listens. She knows that I’m ugly and isn’t afraid to inadvertently tell me by not saying anything. She said she thinks I have this thing called Body Dysmorphia. I don’t know what that means and I didn’t bother to ask. I don’t care, but it’s probably got something to do with how I got so fat and horrible.
Maybe it’s like thyroid and just makes people put on weight like crazy? It doesn’t matter anyway; I’m not going to research it. I’ll just let the therapist think what she wants.
Which reminds me: I’m meant to be there now, for group therapy. I hate group therapy, especially because of that guy who keeps staring at Lucas. He glares at me a lot, and it makes me scared.
Ugh, they’re calling my name. Kill me.
♠ ♠ ♠
Yeahhh... I kinda died yesterday, so sorry for the delay in the update and the craptacular chapter.And just to clear things up, Lucas has recovered from his bulimia, and now maintains his weight healthily, without purging.
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