The first time I made myself throw up a meal, I cried.
But not for normal reasons. I wasn't crying because I was
depressed, or because I felt ugly.
I was crying happy tears.
Because finally, there was hope. There was a chance I could be
skinny and beautiful and happy, and I was overwhelmed with
joy.
I knew what bullemia was. I knew the dangers, but I am
so obsessed with being beautiful and
happy.
So, if this describes you,
Be stronger than I am, and stop.
