I can’t fit into my jeans and I feel lumpy. I feel large and mushy and lumpy. I feel like my stomach takes up too much space. and my thighs jiggle like something from a funhouse. And my face feels like an inflated balloon.
I know these things aren’t true. I know that these things, even if they were true, do not define me. But I can’t help but feeling this way. I can’t help feeling that I wish I could keep my disorder size but have an ordered mind.