When I first got my driver's permit at 16, I lied and put my weight as 165 on the application. In reality I was somewhere over 200 pounds, but couldn't stand the idea of admitting that to the people at the DMV. 165 seemed like an unattainable goal even though I was already engaging in ED behaviors. I was in high school, but my mother still packed my lunches for me every day. I felt bad about throwing out the sandwiches and snacks she would get up early in the morning to prepare before she left for work, so it was around that time when I asked her to give me lunch money or prepackaged snacks instead. My backpack and locker were full of uneaten granola bars and poptarts all the time, I couldn't give them away fast enough.

I've been hovering in the high 150s since February. The once unattainable 165 now seems like a bloated and disgusting weight that I can never allow myself to hit again. Every new low weight I hit is the lowest I've been in my adult life, it feels simultaneously like a huge victory and a massive failure. Because it's never enough.