Hate

Some claim there is such beauty in numbers. I don't see anything glorious in them. To me, they are more instruments of torture. My days--and sometimes my nights-- are full of numbers. Was that one grain or two? Can I count that as three servings? *** calories. 7528 steps. Too many. Too few. Weight: too high. Wait... did that yogurt have 80 calories or 100. Did I accidently drink regular soda? Should I add 120 calories  to my total just to be safe? 

I hate numbers. ED, however, loves them. He uses them to torture me. The tenths of a pound on the scale become so significant. I am required to add and re-add my calorie intake, to constantly check the pedometer on my phone, to check my weight in every outfit I own. 

I hate numbers. I hate ED.