Apr. 10th, 2007

i_id: (Russell)
I get it.  I'm skinny.  I'm pale.  I have huge shadows under my eyes because I never get enough sleep.  I look unhealthy, particularly right now as I am unhealthy, and coughing rather a lot.  The simple exercises we did today didn't wind me too badly, but if this were a longer class, I wouldn't be able to do it.  I'm in poor shape, I get it.

But I don't even know your name, and I doubt you know mine.  It is in no way, shape, or form your responsibility to come up to me after class for this delightful exchange.

You: "I think you should get some help."
Me: "What?"  Walking down the stairs.  Not even breathing hard.
You: "There are support groups for this." 
Me: ".... I'm not anorexic."  I wish this were the first time I've had this conversation.
You: "I went through the same thing, when I was a freshman."
Me: "..."  Leaving.  Now.

So, yeah.  Fuck you, and your eating disorder.

Edit: And I've entirely lost my voice, so I couldn't even bitch you out properly.

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