My lowest weight was 101 lbs.

"You feel small."

I heard my wife say anytime she hugged me. I rolled my eyes and changed the subject whenever she said this. But it was true. I was small- just not small enough.
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The scale said 101 - only a few pounds away from my ideal weight. 

I ate maybe 300 calories a day, MAX. Whatever I actually ate generally ended up in the toilet a few minutes later.

It became an obsession. Having anything in me simply made me feel abhorrently disgusted with myself. I craved the emptiness that came with eating the bare minimum for a couple day streak. 

I would go a few days on less than my daily calorie intake limit. I felt on top of the world. I was in control. 

but...False control is all that it was. I was completely governed by the voices in my head telling me I wasn't enough. The voices encouraged me to forgo meals or to punish myself and relieve my body of the seemingly unnecessary calories. The scale was my best friend and enemy. I became obsessed with whatever it told me. 

Numbers were constantly commanding to be counted. Calories, exercise, steps, pant size, weight before eating, weight after eating, weight in the morning, weight before bed, weight after purging, weight before purging. 

Numbers. All the time. 

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