Human.

The day after tomorrow is my 17th birthday. I should be ecstatic. I should be inviting friends to a party. I should be planning the perfect outfit. But all Ana's letting me do is stress about how much I will weigh that morning. To Ana, it's not a birthday. To her, it's just another day. Another 24 hours to lose a pound or more. When I started this, I weighed 149 pounds...
Just typing that number pains me. How I let myself get that way, I will never understand, nor will I ever forgive myself for it. Today I am 122.2 pounds. Holy Moley... It's been a long road, but we're no where near finished. Those are the words going through my mind everytime I think "Wow, I look really good. Maybe I should stop. Before it's too late."
"No," she says, harshly, diminishing that one glimmer of hope for recovery. "We're no where near finished. Not yet. Five more pounds."

I've never had a boyfriend. I've never been on a date. I've never really been the love interest of anyone but drunk bastards at parties. I think that's why I stopped eating.
Let's see, a life story. An autobiography from July 14, 1995 til today. I was born in Reno. I don't remember living there. I moved to Las Vegas when I was about five. Life there was horrible. On top of being chubby, having a gorgeous best friend, low self-esteem, and being practically invisible, I lived with a bi-polar, abusive, manipulative, liquor-addicted closet fag known as my biological father. As far as I'm concerned, any sickness in my brain, any body dismorphic issues I present root from that man. But I guess I'll talk more about him later.
When I was 16, my mother married a child. Five kids who loathe him, a business that went to complete shit, a spoiled, self-obsessed child. A pathetic, shriveled, cowardly excuse for a human being. Let's not talk about him. Anyway, I then moved to California.
If you're wondering why my "bio" is so short, it's because I've never really had a life. Hard to believe that a person who has spent 17 years on this earth has nothing to show for it, isn't it?

I've always wanted to be pretty. I've always wanted boys to like me. What girl doesn't? But over the years of watching skinny dumb bitches reel in fantastic catches, and wondering what could possibly be wrong with me, I went through the list:
I cut my hair. Big Mistake. I was called a lesbian for a year and a half.
I changed my style. Many times. From emo, to scene, to preppy, to punk rock, to hippie. No dice.
I changed my personality. Well maybe I was just too interesting? ;) I began talking quieter, blushing more, talking about the Jonas Brothers, things that girls around me were always doing. The things that made me alienate myself from them. Didn't work.
Finally I decided to look in the mirror... I was 5'6" and nearly 150 pounds. I suddenly disgusted myself. It all made sense.. That's when I met Ana.

People don't care if skinny girls are weird. It's cute. They don't care if skinny girls are awkward. It's adorable. If skinny girls are cold, they get hot boys' jackets. If they eat a plate of nachos people think "Thank God she's eating that," instead of "wow she really should've had a salad." And when I finally do meet a boy, and when he starts talking to me, when I tell him I've never been on a date, he'll be suprised: "No way. But, you're so gorgeous." I can't wait for that day.
Ana is my best friend now. We spend every waking moment together. She makes me pretty. She wants me to find a relationship. Her only purpose in this life is to make me beautiful and free of my addiction to food.
This hasn't been easy. I've failed. I've cheated. I've purged. I've lied to people I love. I've pushed the few friends I did have away. But in a sick way, it's all been worth it. Somehow, my twisted mess of a mind is happy with this. Without Ana, who am I? No one. Just a chubby girl who's never been given a damn about.
That's not me. And Ana understand that. I have dreams. I have ambitions. I want to be a singer. And an actress. And a model. And a designer. And I want to be some one's thinspiration.
I want my picture circulating through the Pro Ana/ thinspiration tags on Tumblr. Sick, isn't it? My entire goal is just to be worshiped. For people to be in awe of me..
How Human of me.