I haven't starved myself actually. I'm still eating normally.

And the truth of the matter is that I know how terrible it is to go through the mental torture, the endless battle with food. I know it. I face it every damn day, it's awful enough such that I wouldn't wish that kind of torture on my worst enemy.

I want to eat without giving a damn because eating makes me happy. The act of eating, of tasting my food. I consider it to be one of the greatest pleasures in life. And I want to be able to do that without the restriction.

I'm in two minds, and neither side is winning. I don't know what to do. I know that contracting an eating disorder can only be even more destructive than it is now, and that's why I consciously make sure I don't develop one. I don't puke up my food, because rationally, it screws up your oesophagus and your teeth. I don't starve, because I've read enough to know better.

The crux of the matter is no longer about whether I'm fat or not. That's like the sideline issue, it's more of how do I get myself out of this hellish mental battle I put myself through everyday, that taunts me everytime I have idle time to myself.

Hello, you're 19, you should be doing so many better things with your life than worrying about your weight. You're in your prime, you should be learning more, doing more for your future, and all you can think about is stepping on that stupid scale, and if the needle dips a smidge more than yesterday, your day is made. How pathetic is that, you tell me.