Underneath

I live a lie. If you met me you'd never guess the battles I fight with anxiety and an eating disorder. I would sit opposite you with a coffee having 'eaten earlier' or feigning no appetite. I would hold a conversation, laugh and appear to have it all. You wouldn't see how much preparation had gone into meeting - the outfit changes, the pep talks, checking menus online should I absolutely have to eat with you. I have mastered the ability to just blend in, I don't stand out, I don't demand attention. You probably walk past many people like me every day, individuals desperately trying to look like they have everything under control as they slowly crumble away. 

I don't know which me is 'me' anymore. I have spent so long projecting the 'everything's fine' lie that I actually really do find myself believing that's the truth. In my messed up mind not eating has become the norm, pushing my body to breaking point is just what people do, denying myself treats just demonstrates will power. In the most underhand way possible my eating disorder has penetrated my soul and started to make me believe that she is correct. On the outside I have my shit together - I talk about needing to book a doctors appointment because I am spiralling downwards yet I haven't picked up the phone. I can tell people what they want to hear, to keep them from knocking on my door, yet I appear to be incapable of helping myself.

Don't be fooled by my appearance, I may be smiling but scratch the surface and I am falling apart.