my anything

If I could have anything, what would I want?

I would want to be happy.

I would break the mirror that lies behind my eyes, telling me nonono, you're fat fat fat, all the time.  I would mute the never ending scream of uglyworthlessfatbitchwhorefatfatfat that plays in my head.

I would be happy.  I will be happy.  I can be happy.

But I don't know how.  I don't know how to stop this sick merry go round.

Within a year, I lost and gained the same 30+ pounds.  I went from healthy to dying to "healthy" and fat again.  I have cut myself, from my face to my ribs to my wrists to hips to my thighs.  I have burned, punched, pinched, scratched, hurt myself.  I have scarred myself, inside and outside.

I have lost love and gained love.  I have hurt and been hurt.

But most of all, I have broken me.  Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.  Words didn't hurt me, words have helped save me.  Numbers.  Numbers have hurt me.

82 is my number.  It haunts me.  It lurks behind my eyelids, whispering.

Just three more pounds to 79, just three.  You weak fuck, you couldn't even do that.  Three more pounds and maybe you would have been happy.  You disgust me.

If I could have anything?  I would erase what I've done.  I would be happy.

I would be happy.

sorry this is so rambling