Mirrors

Mirrors used to terrify me. Seeing what I thought was a horrifying creature reflected back at me was enough to make me sick. So I avoided them at all costs, and when I couldn't I dropped my head low, eyes stuck on the floor.

The Doctor told me that I was not the freak that I thought myself to be. That many people felt this way. That they thought that they were ugly too. I told the Doctor that I didn't just think I was ugly but, that I was worthless.

We talked. Hour after hour. Day after day. The Doctor gave me pills. Things that make serotonin in my brain, balancing me out. They helped, or at the very least gave me the energy that made seeing the Doctor easier.

I've been seeing the Doctor for years now. Less often lately. They like to give me homework. This week's was to buy a mirror.

I haven't seen what I really look like, in more then a passing glance, since I started the Doctor's pills. I had the mirror delivered.

I stood in front of it, eyes closed as hard as possible, until my legs were soar. When I thought about what I was going to look like, I was terrified. The Doctor and I had agreed that dieting wasn't helping right now and that if I wanted to, we could talk about it again later. I haven't known how many calories I've eaten a day in months. I was sure that I was even more disgusting than when I started seeing Doctor.

I opened my eyes. The person in the mirror looked like me excpet, better. They didn't have bones poking through the skin, making my shape bumpy and uneven. They were standing, holding themself up without the world swaying with every step. They were holding their head up.

The person in the mirror was what I had always wanted to be. Beautiful. Strong. I was proud of the person in the mirror. I was proud of myself.