Breakdown 

recoveryrekindled

Clothes everywhere, strewn across the floor. The bedroom looks as though a bomb went off.

In the middle lies a crying girl. It’s not even 8am, and already her day is an uphill battle.

The trigger?

Her campers fifth grade graduation.

She woke up this morning excited. Hair and makeup done, she turned to her clothes.

With each outfit she tried, she became more and more dissatisfied.

Her size zeros didn’t fit, her size twos were tight. Impossible. She couldn’t be a four. She wouldn’t do it. But she had to.

On other people, she never thought of size as meaning anything. She could look at someone who was a size ten and see them as beautiful. But the mirror was a different story.

Before the panic could overwhelm her, she went downstairs and made her smoothie, anorexia wouldn’t win that battle today.

To collect her thoughts, she went out…

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