I am breaking up with you, ED.

No— it’s not you— it’s me!

Well, actually, it IS you. See… I really need more space. You have completely taken over my life. I cannot even spend quality time with my family and my girlfriends without you attempting to dominate my plans. You are the world’s biggest control freak. Yeah. That’s right. I said it— you can get as angry as you want, ED— I could not care less.

You say nice things to me, ED, but the very next moment, you explode with a cruel comment that really hurts me. And through my pain, as I am mentally sprawled on the floor in a puddle of grief, sorrow, and insane giddiness, I see the shadow of your silhouette crouch down and croon a soft melody of false encouragement into my ear…

When I argue with you, you sometimes go so far as to hurt me, physically. I’m coming out about this, ED— you threaten to inflict upon me worse pain than I’ve ever felt before if I don’t keep this a secret, but I can’t stand this treatment any longer! I do not need a relationship where I am feeling a greater deal of hate and agony than love.

When you harm me, you tell me that it is for my own good, and for awhile, I believed that. I even felt a little ashamed of myself for ever doubting you, after I promised to love and support you. You maintained that the pain you caused me was out of love. It would benefit me in the long run, make me stronger in the future.

Whenever we were with others, you would humiliate me, embarrass me, try to make me feel inferior and diminish my self esteem. I began to withdraw from the world, deny any questions asked of me, deny any emotional comfort, because I was afraid to reveal the truth about our relationship. You were my secret lover… I had fallen deeply in love with my own biggest enemy, and no one could ever know.



I do not need that kind of relationship, ED... no one does.



We are SO over, Eating Disorder.



And no, we cannot stay friends.