"Dress like a girl," they tell me. I shrug, looking down at my baggy black t-shirt that hides all of my curves, which practically blends in with my black pants and black shoes. The only spots of color are fingerless gloves. Blue stripes. It's April, who wears gloves in April? I can hear their thoughts. She looks like a freak.


So now I'm dressed like a girl. A black tank top. A leopard skirt with some black netting underneath. What am I supposed to get out of this? Am I supposed to feel better? More attractive? I know what it makes me feel. I want to cut my legs off. I have shut and locked my door. Drawn the blinds. I am hiding under two comforters. You can't make out the shape of a body under here. Under here, I'm unnoticeable. Invisible.

This tank top shows my figure. I've lost fifteen pounds since I got here, I weigh less than I did in high school, but I still think I look grotesque. I'm dressed like a girl, so everyone can see me. I can't let them see this, so I don't eat. Only some sugar to ensure I don't crash. My eyebrow twitches with the lack of nourishment. The colors of the room swirl around me and I'm not quite sure what color the walls are. I eat some more sugar, just in case. I can't feel my tongue.

Maybe I should eat. You would yell at me if you knew I hadn't eaten. But I don't tell you. You have other things to worry about. I make a sandwich. Turkey, cheese, mayonnaise. I reluctantly eat it. As soon as the last crumb has passed my lips, I am ashamed of myself. I can't lose weight this way. I want you to think I'm pretty. I'm never going to be pretty enough.

I've given up for today. It has been too much. I can't deal with people right now, so I put on headphones without listening to anything. The headphones block the sounds of happiness coming from the window and they allow me an excuse to not talk to people as they go in and out. I feel kind of pathetic. As weird as it is, I just want to talk to someone. But these people aren't the right someones. I don't know who I'm looking for.

Until then, this is me, day after day. Confused and lost. But it's okay, really.