Dealing with my eating disorder was like wearing a mask. Everything that people thought of me was far from the truth. On the outside, I looked fine, but on the inside, I was breaking bit by bit. Multiple, nagging voices were ditcating what to say, what to do, what to think about… Screaming during the day and whispering long into the night, sending me into distress. My thoughts would spiral into the abyss when given time and energy, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get them to leave me alone. My body was begging for nutrients that my brain wouldn’t allow for it to get. My thoughts had convinced me that I was saving myself from poison, but in reality, I was slowly starving myself. I would ask myself again and again: Was the food really the monster, or was I the monster? But it was my battle to fight and my fight to face, and so I retreated back into hiding behind that mask for a long time.