You wake up at six thirty on a Monday. Great. You try to sit up, but your bones ache so badly that you just lie there for a second longer staring at your ceiling, wondering why something as simple as getting up from your bed is such a hassle. Eventually, you manage it, but have to hold on to something, because you got up too fast and are about to pass out. After a minute or two, you regain your stability, and before you even think about it, your feet carry you straight to the bedroom mirror.

You stand there for about ten minutes, maybe longer. You touch your collarbones. You lift up your shirt. You turn sideways. You pinch at your skin and immediately know it’s not going to be a good day today. You don’t really look at your face yet, because you already know what you’re going to see: the dark circles underneath your eyes have gotten worse. Your hair looks thinner than it was a week ago, and your teeth don’t look healthy at all. And still, there’s this voice in the back of your head, telling you that it's all right and you just need to do better. Starve better.

Thats Ana.

She doesn’t have a body or a face; she just lives in your head, taking over yours. She pumps thoughts, always ready with something to say. She tells you that almost fainting means you’re doing well. That your fingers turning purple and being cold in summer means you’re perfectly fine. She tells you that the clothes hanging off your small torso are something to be proud of, even though all your bones are visible and your mom is worried. She takes things that SHOULD scare you and turns them into achievements. Completely brainwashing you.

After staring at yourself until you are completely disgusted with yourself, you go to your bathroom. The first thing your eyes land on is the scale. You jump on without hesitation. 1/4. Yes, Ana makes me weigh myself four times a day. Before you even look down at the number, you know this number is going to guide the day you’re allowed to have. You check anyways. The number is different from yesterday. It’s gone up 0.2 lbs. You are so incredibly mad at yourself; you start punching your guts, wishing it was flatter. Why can't I be thin? Your whole day is ruined; Ana is very pissed right now. Her mouth wont stop running. It doesn’t matter that your body is a body and not a machine that can give you the same results every day. She only cares that the number went up instead of down. It’s going to be a hell of a day.

You then peel yourself away and get dressed for school. It’s fifteen degrees outside, which should be pretty nice weather. But you're freezing without even leaving your house. You’re always freezing lately. You put another layer underneath your uniform and pull on your pants; they don’t really fit the way they used to. They are super loose around your waist, almost to the point of slipping off. You’re really happy about that; it paints a huge smile on your face. Ana is happy too, but she wants it to completely fall off. She wants your fitted dress pants to look more like baggy jeans; I mean, they already are starting to. Whatever, the baggier the better. Or it?

You start brushing your hair, and more of it comes out each day. You just stare at the brush. It’s kind of frightening to watch yourself slowly disappear piece by piece. You run your fingers through your scalp, hoping it was just the brush… More of it comes out. You decide not to think about it too much. That just means whatever im doing is working. Then you finally choose to look at your face properly. The dark circles are obvious. You look sick, tired, yellow, even. So you put on concealer, loads of it. You cover the circles, fix your hair, slap on a smile. And make yourself look presentable enough that nobody at school even questions it. On your way downstairs, you crack a joke to your dad and pack your school bag. You skip breakfast; I mean, who needs breakfast? right? Mom makes you lunch; she started making it after she caught you a couple of months ago faking making your lunch. But whatever, you know you’re just going to throw it out anyway.

You finally make your way to school, and the wave of school air almost makes you pass out. again. You sit in a classroom and take notes, while your body is threatening to give out. All Ana does is convince you that you’re fine. This is normal. Its woking. You look like nothing's wrong, nothing’s bothering you, even though every single thought in your head has somehow circled back to food, your body, numbers, guilt, and whether you have been good enough for Ana today. And people think you’re really doing fine; I mean, everything looks under control. You even look at yourself and think you’re doing fine. You have A’s, lots of friends, no drama, and most importantly, you're thin. That means everything is good, doesn’t it? But that's how she gets you. She meets you at a time when life is kinda shitty. She promises that she's going to make life better, that she is your forever friend. So you listen to her; it works! So you keep going; you really believe that being smaller and perfect is worth sacrificing your health.

Anyway, you get through first period. Then second, Then its lunch time. It actually feels like the longest period there is, even longer than math. You have a terrible headache, so you take some Tylenol. You find your friends in the school caf, talking and cracking jokes with them. Trying to distract them from the fact that you aren’t eating your lunch. You’re used to it; you do this every day. But every day they always ask why im not eating. “oh itsjust a stomachache. My head hurts; I had a big lunch.” The list goes on. You switch the subject really fast, grabbing the homemade sandwich your mom made you, squishing it in the palm of your hand. You grab a napkin and walk towards the trash can as if that was the object you were throwing out. As you walk back, you watch other people eat without even overthinking it, and wonder what that must feel like. It must be nice to finish a meal and just move on with your day instead of your mind not forgetting it and yelling at you for hours afterward. For a second, you wish you could be like that. Then Ana gets really scared. She becomes super defensive and angry at you for even thinking that. She reminds you of what you’re supposed to want, calling you all these terrible names. Telling you the worst possible scenario that could happen if you do eat like them. And you listen to her, because by now, you know she’s right. You know she has a point. Plus you’ve spent so long listening to her; she already knows you. She loves you and just wants what's best for you, and thats a point I need you to understand. Ana is cruel; she can be mean and nasty. But she’s familiar. She’s been with you for so long that sometimes you can’t tell where she ends and you begin. She can make you miserable and still make you feel like the loser that you are without her. would if anas right? Would all my friends do leave me because I get fat? Maybe I can take one bite of this apple? I am starving… “NO, REMEMBER THAT TEST YOU GOT A 70 ON, YOU FAT BITCH! NO FUCKING FOOD FOR YOU UNTIL DINNER TIME. YOU NEED TO MAKE UP FOR IT, LOSER.” …Okay, so i guesss I ll just follow Ana’s rules. She’s right; I should have gotten over an 85%, then maybe she would have let me take a bite.

The school day is done, so you go home. You’ve spent the whole day trying to look and be perfect, and now your exhauserd from pretending to look like you have everything under control. You drop your bag on the floor and sit on your bed; your uniform is still on, your face still has concealer under your eyes, and your stomach is absolutely growling. You go back to your bedroom mirror and look at yourself again. You’re not proud of yourself. You don’t feel beautiful. You don’t even feel thin despite all the comments. But you do feel absolutely drained from life. And thats what Ana always leaves out. She talks about what you will look like. What you'll weigh; she talks about mirrors and clothes and numbers. How good you’re doing socially and academically. If you deserve to eat or not. But she doesn’t say what it will cost.

She doesn’t mention a thing about your body hurting from breathing. Or almost passing out while just trying to walk upstairs. Or being scared of a lot of things leading to severe FOMO. How concentrating in class is like trying to win a World Cup, because your brain is stuck thinking about what you did wrong and how you are going to make up for it. Ana thinks she’s making people like me, but she's actually shrinking my personality too. Because there’s only so much room left in your head after Ana takes up so much space in it. Not to mention, when you starve yourself, your brain shrinks along with your body. And there is this part of you that really wants your life back. But Ana just keeps convincing you that she’s the one making your life good, and you keep listening because she's been in your head for so long that you don’t know what you’d do without her.