"How's your eating?" The psychiatric resident asks in our meeting with the team.
"Fine," I lie. Should I give her the "disordered eating" speech? I skip meals. I see how little I can eat all day. Sometimes I don't eat at all (although it's been more than a month since I did that). My "ED" is the only thing I have left that the doctors leave alone. NO one lectures me on my eating, no one cares, no one messes with my brain over it. No one has labeled me since 2009. I'm free to torture my body with food and without it.
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