Mirrors and Smoke

"The mirror hates me," i muttered.
Ana laughed bitterly. "Oh, don't you blame the mirror for your failures. The mirror can only reflect what's in front of it."
I stared at my reflection. "Fine. I hate the mirror."
"For telling you the truth? Now, that's not very logical," she pointed out.
I sighed. "Ok, i hate me."
"Now we're getting to the truth of the matter." She put her bony arm around my too-wide shoulders.
I watched her movements in the mirror; she was so tiny and graceful. Then my eyes moved back to my own reflection; i was horrid and fat. My stomach wasn't the concave, beautiful thing i'd wished it to be; it wasn't even flat. My thighs still touched at the top. My arms were still huge, gelatinous beasts coming from my torso. My cheeks, chubby squirrel cheeks. Even my skin had broken out in a pimply protest. "I've got to fix all of this," i said softly.
"Let me help you, sweetie," Ana offered. "You can't do it all on your own."
I nodded. "ABC day 1 all over again."
"Good girl," she said, patting my back.
"I wish i wasn't craving peanut butter..."
She shook her head violently. "NO! You ignore that and don't even go into the kitchen where the peanut butter is."
I nodded again. "I'll try."
"Not good enough."
"Fine. I won't even look at it."
"Much, much better. Welcome back to starvation, love."