The enemy sits there, on that table, just waiting for me to give in. But i promise myself that I will not prove to be what others think of me. I will not prove to them that I am the fat girl they have all grown to hate.
I watch as my friends enjoy their fat filled, greasy food. I even watch as my sister turns into an obese thirteen year old. I am always aware of the things I eat. It is a mental process, you see. I first think of all of the things I want to be in life. I then realize that if I were skinny, I could acomplish those goals.
Somehow or another my head became wrapped around my weight. It never leaves my mind; this monster lurks just beneath the surface. It is as though I have a mental disease.
I do not starve myself, rather I am overly conscious of what I eat and how much I excercise. I make sure I do not eat fatty things, for I do not want to become even bigger. I do not want to be what these people think of me. I will not be fat. But, is this life of mine really even a life anymore?
I think not.