I hate how it doesn’t matter how I’m doing with my eating disorder; my sister’s always comes first. My family keeps talking about how she didn’t eat dinner, blah blah blah, and I’m right there like “Awesome, thanks guys. Can we talk about almost anything else?”

It’s always going to be her.

I remember on the fourth of July when I was having the hardest time of my life and I binged all day, and when I went to my mother in complete panic, she told me to keep it down because Kate might hear me freak about food.

Kate might hear.

So stop talking about it.

You don’t matter as much.

Shh.