Have you ever felt trapped in your own mind? Like no mater what you do or who you talk to, those thoughts are always there. They don’t leave. They stay till they are heard and once they are heard, they yell. They yell to you give in. Once you give in, regret comes. This regret that traps you. This regret that keeps you up at night wishing you could go back and change time. Wishing you could start over. I wish I could tell that 5 year old little girl who was comparing her thighs to the other little 5 year olds that she doesn’t have to fit this image. I wish I could tell that 8 year old girl that she doesn’t have to cover her stomach when she goes swimming. I stay up at night wishing to go back in time to change it all. If only I never met the boy who stripped every confidence I had in myself away. The one who I continued to go back to because I wanted the one who destroyed me to put me back together. I wish I could tell that girl to let go. Not to just let go of the boy but to let go of the fears. The fear of being alone. The fear of not being loved. The fear of not being the prettiest. The fear of not being wanted. These fears still haunt me. They hold me captive. I had these fears at the age of seven or eight. I remember thinking that the worst thing that could ever happen to me was being fat and not wanted by a man. I desired to have a man to love me and save me at such a young age. I’d be lying if I said that I still didn’t want that. 2 years of recovery seems more like 10 years. I thought it would only get easier as time passes. People say time heals everything but 2 years passes and I still feel like that 16 year, 98 pound girl. The only difference is I’m 40 pounds heavier. People view it as “healthy” weight that I needed to gain but all I see some days is a girl who let herself go. I notice every pound that’s gained. Every inch that is put on. I know exactly how many calories are in every little bite. I’m trapped. Trapped between this idea of wanting this “freedom” from this disorder but also wanting so desperately to be skinny. This is what I want. I’m scared because once I tasted just a bit of the weight loss from not eating, its like a shark that tastes blood. I can’t be stopped till I get where I want to go and where I want go is back to that 16 year old girl. I want that control. I want to control it all again.