Damnit I'm home, back where this all started, back where it was the worst.
And I want to maybe not eat for a few days... maybe...

Um, I'm FUCKING TERRIFIED of gaining weight. And I'm pretty scared of staying the way I am. It's weird because sometimes I look in the mirror and think "Okay, I accept this, it's fine, and I'm pretty cute I guess" and sometimes I'm like "LOOK AT ME HOW ARE YOU SO ATTRACTIVE GIRL YOU ARE TOO FINE" (okay that's a bit of an exaggeration... but not much of one. I really do look in the mirror sometimes and find myself incredibly stoked on how I look, haha) but then those times when I look in the mirror and see something bigger than it feels like it should be, I feel like I would be absolutely perfect if I lost a little more weight. Maybe just 10 lbs. Maybe 20. But not more than that...

But I can't weigh myself, I KNOW I can't or I will spiral out of control and right back into this eating disorder. I came home and there was a scale in my room. I guess that's where they've been keeping it. I almost weighed myself, but I knew I just couldn't. I put it in my closet. I don't WANT to know if I've gained or lost weight since I moved (I haven't weighed myself since left for school because I left the scale here) because IT SHOULDN'T MATTER. And also because I know very well that seeing a higher number on that scale will successfully undo the last month I've spent trying to get better, trying to gain self-confidence. I don't remember ever in my life looking in the mirror and thinking I was not only beautiful just for being human but that I was also just really fucking attractive... and two days ago I did that. I kept looking in the mirror over and over again, not out of vanity but out of sheer excitement and happiness that every time I looked in the mirror I got happier and happier with my appearance.

I have a mirror that's elongating. It makes me look much thinner and taller. I was looking in that. I figured maybe I only liked what I saw because that mirror is flattering.
So I went to the bathroom.
The normal, seemingly more accurate mirror.
And I still fucking felt that same happiness.
When I got home today I looked in the bathroom mirror, the bathroom mirror that I always looked fatter in than I did in any other mirror
And I still felt fucking beautiful.

SO WHY DO I STILL WANT TO FUCKING STARVE MYSELF!?

I've dealt with this fucking self-confidence issue PRETTY GODDAMN WELL so WHAT THE FUCK IS IT!? How am I supposed to fix this if I don't know what's causing it? I don't feel ugly, I don't feel worthless, and most importantly I know that even if I WAS ugly that it wouldn't make me worthless anyway.

I mean isn't that the definition of self-confidence? That you're great but even if you end up not being great, you're still fucking great? And that everyone else is great too because everyone else is inherently great, and that you feel SO great that you don't have to feel greater than others just to feel great? Replace "great" with "beautiful" or "amazing" or "intelligent" or whatever other lovely word.

Compliments about my appearance used to make my day.
Now they're essentially irrelevant, because I don't need them anymore.
I smile, say thank you, because it's nice. But it wouldn't have mattered to me either way.

There are a hundred other things I'd rather be complimented for anyway before anything about my looks.

And I truly believe all of this.
I don't feel that I'm denying any deep insecurities.
I really feel confident in saying that I feel confident.
I feel that I could certainly improve more in that area, but damnit I think I've got this confidence thing down pretty fucking well huh?

So.
I don't know.
I thought the root of all of my problems was lack of self-confidence. The depression, anxiety, the food problems.
But they're still here.
The anxiety's worse than it's ever been.

...so what am I supposed to do?