Just as with life, the past few months have been exquisitely good and tremendously bad.

I have learned that selfish people who perpetuate body image issues really do exist.
They aren't distant media figures, but living individuals outside my own front door.

I have cried bitter tears that I had thought finally ran dry.
I still feel ugly, fat, and inadequate.
I still hate men.
I still hate my body.

But I do love myself.

I haven't binged consistently in 8 months, and I haven't binged at all in 5.
I don't rely on my medications to keep me away from eating.
I've finally started to buy clothes that fit me and that make me feel good; no more over-sized sweaters, t-shirts or jeans.

I want to shed the skin of my past with each layer of clothing I throw away.
I guess I'm trying to invest in who I want to be.