Finding Justification

I've known for a few month's now that I am bulimic. Problem is, I'm not ready to stop. I don't know if I'll ever be ready.

I am shaped like Marilyn Monroe, I know, and that's something most can be proud of. Not me. Monroe may have been one of the sexiest women of history, but she was a size 14, and American media's come a long way since it accepted that.

When I was in my freshman year, I went through a time of extreme depression, and I gained 20 pounds onto an already generous 160 pound body. At 5'6, I was never made to be that big.

Last year, I changed schools and became so much happier. I dropped almost all the 20 original pounds and for the longest time, I thought I was doing well. Still, I kept remembering what my doctor told me before I put on the weight, that at 160, I was ten pounds too much. Now, I'm 156 on average.

With a scale in my room, I check my weight daily. I also have a calorie counter that doesn't let me take in more than 1000 calories a day, if that.

I started purging (never binging, I never saw the point in that) all of my small meals about three months ago. I've been lying to my mom about how much I weigh, so she doesn't get worried about what I'm doing.

I wish, I could say, I thought bulimia was a bad thing, but it's half my efforts now, and I'm not willing to give that up. I don't know why I'm writing this here, if it's to find justification or to recognize what's wrong with me. I guess if it helps someone else recognize what's wrong with them, then I've done something right.

I admit, I want to stop someday, but I hope that day is a long way off, and at least another five or ten pounds away. Being voluptuous is a nice dream for someone who's not sixteen and scared.

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