Kim McErlean

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For years, I determined my self-worth by my measurements. If a smaller size fit me, I was euphoric. On days when I needed to size up, a dark cloud appeared. I was stupid, puffy, a clogged trash chute. I was willing to try anything to live with the smalls, and I did. I starved myself, ran until my knees ached, drank laxative teas, took appetite suppressants,
Drinking Games
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