Authors' note: There have been tons of eating disorder fics for America, but I'm pretty sure most of the authors have never actually experienced the horror of this disorder. I love all of my readers, please read and review!
It was never a direct insult.
It was little things.
Little
Tiny
Things.
With the little things, came little pieces of confidence chipping away.
Until the breaking point.
Of course, the breaking point has already been past.
Everything was wearing away, until there was nothing left to break down.
It was all gone.
Nothing to break down.
Nothing left to hold onto.
Nothing.
Another day, another meeting. Another normal, average, boring, day. Waking up, getting dressed, filling paperwork out, normal. He knew something was wrong, but shook it off.
Nothings wrong with you, quit it. You're not underweight, nothing is wrong. Shut up you big, fat baby. Disgusting. Even if there was something wrong, nobody cares anyway.
He used to be open, not hiding under huge, baggy, giant clothes. Things changed. He knew he wasn't obese or anything, just not as good as he can be. Nowhere near perfect. He knew perfect would never come, but he never wanted perfect. He wanted thin.
He would make plans to skip eating, but ate the exact same amount as ever. Nothing ever changed, but that's what hurt the most. He tried, he really did.
Not hard enough. It's never enough.
It would never go away in a day, but he wanted change, and fast.
Now.
And that's what he would get.
And he got what he wanted.