Dear Ross
I barely eat anymore, and yet food is the only thing I think about. I'm trapped and I can't break free from the thoughts. My body is too big for me. I will never be small enough. I will hate my body until I'm old and stands on the brink of death, and first then I'll understand that it never mattered. Now it's too late. I don't understand the point of waiting for so long. I sleep as much as I can, and when I wake up I become sad that I can't manage to sleep more. Because I am reminded that I exist. I want to sleep more, I want to sleep forever.
Ross, I wish I could enjoy life. That my smile was real and that I could relax. Reality is sadly comleptely different. I have been sad as long as I can remember, so joy is an alien feeling. The little hope I have that everything is going to be fine, fades more and more. I really want to be happy, so why am I not?
Your truly
Iris xx