Sunday, July 3, 2011

Letter from Ana - off Tumblr

Dear ___

     So, you want to be skinny? I don’t blame you. You’re the fattest human being I’ve ever seen. I honestly don’t know why you let yourself live. I have a lot of work to do, so you’d better listen up and follow every single instruction I give you.
     Food makes you fat. Calories are your natural enemy. Think you’re hungry? Think again. You want to put something in that tummy of yours? Not while I’m here. Eating is for people with no self-control. You’re better than that, I hope. What defines us as people? Will power. Show some. Put down that fork. Do you really need to eat dinner? You can pass on breakfast and lunch, too. Look in the mirror. What do you see? Fat. It’s everywhere, spreading over your body like a disease. Why on earth would you need food when you have so much of it under your skin? Gluttony is as much a sin as it is repulsive. Let’s not embarrass ourselves.
     You know your boyfriend? You can forget about him. He doesn’t matter. You know your friends and family? Forget about them, too. They will only try and stop us. They will get in our way and become the obstacles you fight to overcome, the distractions that hinder our progress.
     School and work aren’t important. Sure, you can spend hours studying if it’ll keep your mind off food. Are these the things that define us? No, we are defined by how thin we are. What people see when they look at us. What is the use having perfect grades and a perfect career if you don’t have a perfect body to match?
     Start being productive. Do something with your life. Read books about me, make a scrapbook about me, listen to music about me, look at pictures of skinny girls who love me. That can be you. You can be the girl who is tiny, who is worth writing a book about, worth being in pictures.
     Weigh yourself every morning and every night. Weigh yourself before you eat. Weigh yourself after you eat. Calculate your BMI everyday. You need to be in the category “< 18.5.” You need to be underweight. When you pass a mirror, check it. Stare into it. Frown at the saddlebags and love handles. Smile at the bones poking through your skin. We are almost there. You are not vain, you are insecure. Get it right.
     Smoke cigarettes until you feel sick. Drink coffee until you can’t stop shaking. Chew gum until your jaw hurts. Drink water until you’re full. Do sit-ups until you can’t breathe. Starve until your vision blurs and your knees buckle, and then continue to starve. These are my commandments. These are the rules of the game. They mustn’t be broken.
     What if I eat, you ask? You take that obese and bulging body of yours to the bathroom and stick your fat finger down your fat fucking throat. We don’t eat. 
     I’m your best friend. You need to know this. I will always be here, no matter what. We will fight, but you will always come back to me. Always apologize. And I will take you back every single time, because you are so pathetic I cannot turn away. I will never leave you, and you can never leave me. I’m the voice in your head. I’m the one who praises, and the one who punishes. When you are too small for your clothes, I love you. And when you put on a pound, I can’t look at you. Still, we are best friends. I am all you need. 
     You wont be able to sleep. Fortunately, that gives you more time to work out. It gives us more time to bond. It’ll be hard at first, but you’ll get used to it.
     This isn’t going to be easy, but it’s a necessity. And lastly, remember that it is never enough. You are never good enough, never pretty enough, never miserable enough, never tired enough, never thin enough. 
     Keep these things in mind. Follow my rules, and you’ll be fine. You’ll be skinny and gorgeous. Everybody will be jealous. You will be happy. You will be untouchable. You will be the spitting image of perfection. 
     I am very glad you accepted me into your life. I look forward to spending every waking moment with you. Pretty soon, there won’t be a ‘you’ and a ‘me’ anymore. There will be nothing but ‘us,’ and isn’t that all you really wanted? You wanted to be skinny. 

Yours Truly,
Ana

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