I’m so over life. Having an eating disorder and body dysmorphia is the worst combination. I can sit there and stare at what looks to be my body for hours and rip it apart from inside out. But I am the “ideal body”. Skinny and fit. I have muscles. A lot of them. I am skinny and I look really good. But also I stare at my body and hate it. I hate how I look I hate who I am in there. But also I want to be skinnier. I want to only be skin and bones. I want to be those girls you are that have shoulder bones and you can see their tendons and it’s scary how thin they are. Maybe then will I finally see how sick I am sometimes. I’m so done with having disorders. And life. My mom - who has terminal cancer - looses weight like crazy. Because of the medications she has to take they make her not hungry. Which usually lets me get away with not eating. I hate her for it. I hate her for having a scale in her bedroom. I hate her for always telling me her weight. I. Am. So. Over. It. And I tell her that and she doesn’t care

My great grandmother was around 92 years old when she passed away. Throughout my life I have seen her a lot since she lives relatively close (about 20-30 mins away). I moved away to florida for college in 2020. Fall of my freshman year in college covid was huge and my great grandmother wasn’t doing too well. Spring rolled around and my great grandmother had beaten covid and pneumonia. She was a very strong woman. I was about a month away from being home when she was put in the hospital again for covid symptoms. Everything seemed to be fine with her health but my mom asked me to facetime her cause she missed me. I facetimed her later that night and promised her I would see her in a month. She passed away about a week later while I was on spring break. It was slightly unexpected given her age and health condition. I was at the bar with my friends. Safe to say it changed my night around really fast. I was 3 hours away from my school with friends for spring break. My parents didn’t want to fly me all the way up the next day for the funeral and ruin the rest of my vacation because it was a decent amount of money to fly on such short notice. I watched the funeral from a room at my friends beach house. I couldn’t help but cry because of how awful I felt that I couldn’t be there. My regret isn’t that I wasn’t able to say bye. My regret is all the times I could’ve gone over there when i got older and had a car and chose not to because she lived so close and I thought I saw her enough with my family. When I got back home for summer break I went to her grave to honor the last promise I made to her. Just wish I could’ve did it in person.

• June 27, 2023