As a kid I was always called fat, and was told I would grow up and I would never be the skinniest, or shortest because thats how my family was. I was a slim kid until I was around 8. I began eating my feeling out about how my parents would treat me. I stayed home for a whole summer and ate... ate... and ate. Eating my feelings out lasted till I was 14 1/2. I would look at other girls and ask myself why couldn't i be skinny and beautiful like them? I had a thing with this guy back then, I starved myself for 5 days because I believed he would like me more if I was skinnier, and I began to see results in my body. My rib cage got more prominent, my cheeks got slimmer. I fell in love with starving myself. And I still do it to this day. I found nicotine and used it as a tool to not eat for longer. It worked. I was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and anorexia nervosa in October 2019. My doctor put me on prozac , and I refused still to this day to take it because its supposed to increase your appetite, to a healthy level "normal", and it really hurts to admit but I would rather be too skinny and sad, than at normal weight for my height and happy. and I HATE IT SO MUCH. but its to the point where I can no longer help it. I am ashamed that this makes me happy, but I don't have the will power to change it.