As morbid as it sounds, part of me used to be jealous of people who could inflict pain on themselves to help release emotions and gain a sense of control. 

I always felt like I was missing out, because I just had to keep everything all bottled up.

But I could never bring myself to do it. It didn't give me that feeling that so many others got.

And then I became proud of the fact that I didn't succumb to that symptom. 

Until the other day when I slipped into a habit that I've had since puberty and got so stressed that I stopped eating.

After a couple of days, when that hollow feeling really kicked in, I had a passing thought about how comforting it was.

And that's when I realized it's my form of self harm. It never occurred to me that it could manifest this way. But I like the way the hunger feels. My own silent sense of control.

I don't know what to do with this information. But it exists now.