Body Image is a BITCH!

I know I am not a horrible person.
I know I am even a pretty bright.
I know I am not fat.

But I still hate my body. It is like I am at war with my body. I don't feel comfortable in my own skin, in this body that I have. As stressful as my mind can be, my body is worse. It is as though my body is completely alien and wrong to me. It's so weird. And I don't know what to do with it. It's not a part of me. I often have a desire to scrape my body away. Just cut it off every little bit of fat and flesh. Bones, for some reason, seem to have some sort of special property that makes them not entirely terrible. Just bones. I want to be just bones. No fat, no flesh. I don't even understand that.

Anorexia's logic never makes any sense; it is simply the antithesis of logic. And, yet, despite all that CT training I have, I still give into the logic. But this time I am going to try to figure out some ways to argue with that logic. Because, frankly, there is nothing wrong with my body.