I never promised you a rose garden. I never promised perfection or a person safe or comfortable in her skin. But I'm trying.
It became a routine, a way of life. I didn’t even think of it as having an eating disorder. I was just living life; I didn’t bother to dwell on the fact that most others didn’t skip consecutive meals and obsess over inconsequential things. Acceptance of my problems came later; I didn’t see anything wrong with what I was doing. I was miserable in one sense, and euphoric in another.