My life is crazy. I'm proud of how much I've written, though. I think if I keep at this pace I can definitely hit 50k before New Year's.

This story is absoultely not by any means supposed to show healthy or recovering behavior. Emma is sick in this one-shot, and is in a state of mind where she knows, but doesn't believe it. Nor does she want to stop.

Trigger warning! This story mentions eating disorders, including Ednos (eating disorder not otherwise specified) anorexia, bulimia, and binging disorder. Please do not continue reading if you are easily triggered or could experience a form of PTSD. I care for your mental health.

There is also cyber bullying and what could be interpreted as side-effect depression. So, as I said. Please do not read this story if it will cause you issues.

Disclaimer: EWW isn't mine.

I'm hungry.

That's the thought that has me awake at two am. It's only going to be Saturday, but the facts still stand. I should not be up at two am.

And I especially should not be hungry.

We aren't going to do this. It's not happening. I'm not going to eat when I already went a few hundred calories over my limit tonight. No.

Here we go.

I sit up in bed carefully, so I don't wake Andi, and grab my phone. Surely I will stop wanting to eat if I go over everything I did today. How much I've eaten.

I open my notes, and start to read. Breakfast was a glass of skim milk, an English muffin, and almond butter. Two teaspoons. That was 225.

I had school, and like always Jax and I got hungry during free period. So we went to Izzy's, this new restaurant that's obsessed with healthy and delicious food. I got small chicken salad with lite dressing and lemon water. 187.

Then at lunch there wasn't much to choose from, so I got Alfredo pasta topped with broccoli, another water, and some green beans. That made a total of 453 in one meal.

The second I got home I took advantage of the fact that Andi wasn't coming over until six. I did every high intensity workout I could until I felt I'd pass out and I was dizzy. I burned 650.

She took me by surprise, and brought the boys over. Getting one over on Andi is hard as it is; she knows every trick because she's pulled every trick. With the boys here too, I thought for sure someone would call me out if I didn't eat. So when they weren't looking I switched normal popcorn for skinny pop. I use my own bowl for my spices, so no one would be able to know. That was 120.

Too many. I ate too damn much today. I shouldn't have eaten almond butter with breakfast, had my snack, or eaten all the sauce they put on my lunch. Then I'd be okay. Then I might just eat something now.

Part of me is tempted to just say screw it. I mean, maybe my body knows what it's doing. Maybe all the doctors from when I had a 'disorder' the first time are right. Maybe I'm overestimating my brain's ability to tell me what to do and underestimating my body's ability to do the same. Maybe I really am sick. Maybe wanting to get down to a hundred pounds really is as dangerous as wanting to weigh eighty seven when I was thirteen.

But, what if they're wrong? What if all those comments about my weight really were right? What if they're the crazy ones? What if everyone really does think Jax could do better?

I can't leave bed. Surely it will wake Andi up. She won't stop me if she sees me eat. She will stop me if she catches me exercising.

I'm crazy. Eating disorders aren't supposed to effect sane people. Ednos doesn't just happen.

That's what got me. They actually invented a catch all disorder for people that can't even have a disorder right. I'm not bulimic; I rarely ever purge. I'm not anorexic; my bmi never really qualified and I eat too often. I sure as hell don't have binging disorder for obvious reasons. I can't even be sick properly!

Andi knows that I used to have serious Ednos. Two years ago she overheard my dad tell me he was proud that I looked healthy again. Turns out she went through the battle too. Difference is; she was anorexic. She did it right.

A few weeks ago when I got salad instead of pizza on double date night, she called me out in the bathroom. She kept asking what I ate that day, and telling me that I didn't need to diet. I told her I was just trying to be healthier; that there was no trigger.

I lied to her. That morning I got an instagram comment that I deleted so Jax wouldn't see. But, noy until after I screenshotted it.

He is so out of her league! Like, who manages to look ugly and fat in black sequins?

It didn't matter that people blew up on her. It didn't matter how many people said we looked great together. It didn't matter how many people said I looked great. All that left an impact was that one criticism. It's always one criticism.

I can't stand the thought of him knowing. Jax, Andi, and my dad are the three people in this world that mean the most to me. I can not, will not see him look at me the way my dad and Andi did when they found out. Whether it was two seconds or two years, that memory doesn't ever fade. I don't want another one.

Andi tried to challenge me tonight. I said I ate the last of the pizza and she offered to take out the trash. Scariest moment of the last five weeks of my life.

Jax hasn't caught on. All he's done is be supportive. Told me how proud he is that I do exercise outside of scrapbooking. It's almost better when he has a chance to catch me. If it wasn't for him telling Andi to back off tonight the jig would be up. He's helping me, even if it's accidental.

That makes me feel horrible, though. I lie to him about eating, and he defends me in front of Andi. They both love me, and want what's best for me. However, Andi can tell what I'm doing. She's done it all before.

I'm a bad girlfriend. I lie every day now, just so I can limit calories. So I can be perfect. I lie to someone that tells me every day how gorgeous I am because I don't believe him.

I've gone from 118 to 109 in less than two months. I'm happy about it. Every website I've been to says that's not healthy. But, everyone else is wrong. I'm not the messed up one, they are. I'm not a liar, not to myself. I don't have the faulty eyes.

My uniform doesn't fit. I've had to go back to wearing my one from sophomore year, when I was still gaining back weight. Part of me knows that it's a red flag. But I don't know how to stop, and I won't ask for help. I don't want my hard work undone. I won't go back to Dr. Lucacy, the dietician that monitored me until December, three years ago. I'm too proud and stubborn to go back.

I hear Andi start to stir, and quickly shut off my phone. She rolls over, and stops stirring. She's still asleep.

Whew, that was close.

Looking at the clock, I see that it now reads 3:25. I spent an hour and a half thinking about this. That's why I'm tired.

Tomorrow I'll eat better. I'll have a piece of toast and hot sauce with water, instead. That'll be 60.

Tomorrow I will do what I must.

This turned out shorter than I had planned, because writing in such a sick mindset is hard. Part of her may know she's doing things she shouldn't, but she doesn't want to stop. Writing one of my favorite characters being so, messed up, made me sad. Especially because it is not a healthy mindset in the slightest.

I hope this story evoked the proper emotions. Sadness, worry, stuff like that. This was meant to explore the darker parts of mental illness, in a POV that clearly shows the issues while also not fully grasping the fact that they're there. I hope that in some weird way this was enjoyable!

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