the first person to tell me i was anorexic was a doctor. because he took my weight. and he went on about bmi's and similar shit. and how mine was 14 and my blood pressure was very low. that's why i keep fainting. and it was boring. he told me to eat so what i did was not eat.
i spent months literally doing nothing. i could not move without being exhausted. i couldn't stand up without stumbling a little before i found my balance.

didn't eat at home or at school or at friends houses. occasionally a sip of milk or an apple. cut up into tiny pieced and spread out across two days.

someone tells me i look sick; good, i'm doing it right.
someone tells me i'm looking better; don't eat for 10 days.
collapse every time i attempt anything physical. go home, sleep immediately. that's ok, no time to eat when you're not conscious.

meet people with eating disorders and it involuntarily becomes a competition. meet someone who wants an eating disorder and beg them not to be so fucking stupid. meet someone who acts like they have an eating disorder; i would punch you in the face if there wasn't a chance i would break in the attempt.
meet someone who goes on and on and on about their fucking eating disorder. they are known as the one with the disorder, they try to make it cool. they want it because they think it's interesting.

another month and i would have died. it's not interesting, it's fucked up. tell someone you don't remember the last time you ate. "since yesterday?" "nah, a week ago, maybe?" like it's normal. get forced to eat. "why are you doing this?" "i don't have time for this shit." "i can't afford to put you in hospital so just get the fuck over it." 

i'm going to make myself better because that was really fucking ridiculous.