Be skinny. Do not eat ever. People with eating disorders hate food. If you binge on Double Stuf Oreos at two AM with bloodshot eyes after getting a C on an exam, keep it to yourself. If you have cravings, chew and spit. You may feel the acid in your stomach creep up your esophagus, burning blisters into your palate, your body confused as to why the food you promised it isn’t there. You may vomit up acidic fluid, but you’ll live. If people comment on how little you eat, tell them about your naturally small appetite and fast metabolism. Never say that you are hungry.

Be exclusively anorexic. Binge eating disorder and bulimia are uncomfortable. Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified is confusing, Laxative abuse is disgusting, just keep it to yourself.  When you accidentally scarf down four slices of pizza at a friends house after fasting for days, avoid coming face to face with your friend's toilet, spending ten minutes trying to vomit up your shame. If you do, your friend will knock and ask what’s taking so long. Before you open the door, wipe the throaty discharge on a towel, rub your bloodshot eyes, and hold your breath to stop the trembling. Open the door, and tell her you have your period, even though you haven’t gotten one in months.

Be artsy. Smoke remarkably skinny cigarettes and wear high-waisted fishnets underneath your barely-there ripped jeans. Drink tea that comes in fun colors and green smoothies out of mason jars. Dress like a sexy, edgy, Tumblr girl. Show off your caved stomach in Pink Floyd crop tops. Be sad all the time. Talk about what it feels like to be “trapped in your own mind,” and miserable day in and out. If you are happy, if you have good days, if you are anything but manifested in a deep, bottomless depression, you’re faking your illness. Wear revealing clothes, but never love your body. If you fail to feel secure with yourself in an insta-worthy outfit, stay in.

Be beautiful. Let your starved body and jaw-droppingly gaunt face turn heads. When people tell you to stop losing weight because you're already so gorgeous, giggle and say nothing. Don't talk about the burns and blisters on your esophagus, and don't rip at your fat too often (it leaves scars). Be the spitting image of what everyone wishes they had.

Be athletic. Lift tiny weights so that you don’t look strong. Go on four-mile runs, your long, modelesque legs taking elegant strides. If people notice the bruises on your spine from doing one thousand crunches every day on the hardwood floor of your apartment, say you fell (and buy a yoga mat). Be toned like a model, even though you can’t make muscle. If the cartilage between your joints starts to ware from the countless morning runs along the east river, switch to rowing for a while.

Be chill. If you arrive thirty minutes late to a gathering because you spent two hours staring into your mirror, grabbing at the fat on your stomach, your neck, your ankles, your toes, your back, everywhere, and finding new flaws by the moment, changing into twenty-two different outfits, wondering why you were born to be such a horrible sight, blame traffic. When asked how you are, say “good.” Forget about the nights that you purged so hard that you drew blood from your throat. You wondered if this is all there is; if you’ll ever not have to live in fear of food and losing control, if you’ll ever be ok with yourself, if you’ll ever be rid of this burden, or if you even want to be. Consider if you should bother with staying alive since this disease will probably kill you anyway. Refrain from talking to your friends about calories and nutrition, it’s annoying. If your best friend says she won't stick around if you don't shut up about your problems, say you’re sorry and comply. If you then begin to feel like you have no outlet, find a hobby. Examples may include drawing, writing, picking off your skin, taking up another hour of exercise, fasting all day and then spending your calorie limit on vodka at night, getting yourself addicted to nicotine so that your cravings go away, crying even though you’re not sad because your brain is sparing you agony by making you go numb, and shopping.

Never relapse. If by some chance you choose recovery, do not go back. Once you have recovered, you are fixed, you are whole, you are perfect. You are the success story that gives all the Ted Talks, and talks to all the schools about how when you recovered, all was well again. If you fall into a depression while recovering because gaining weight makes you feel worthless, keep it to yourself. All of your old habits must fade: stop cutting your food into microscopic pieces when you eat, crying in dressing rooms, and drinking a gallon of water every day. You’re recovered now. You’re fine. If you relapse, keep it to yourself. Keep it all to yourself. No one wants to hear about it. Stop being such a downer and pretend you’re fine like the rest of us. Recover or die, it's your choice, but no one cares, so keep it to yourself.