It’s always there. Nagging nagging nagging. I’ve tried one hundred times over to murder the bloody voice, seize it forever. But it cowers for a few hours, days, sometimes weeks if I am particularly lucky. Worse, I don’t act on my thoughts nearly as much as I used to, but that only makes it worse. I feel guilty when I eat and don’t purge or wake up knowing exactly how many calories I will consume in the day, and proceed to ruin it–but do nothing about it except think. Think about how I am getting bigger by the second. Think about how awful and disgusting and ugly I am, now that I have not given in to the dreadful voice. I bought a scale today. This, after having a heart-to-heart with my roommate months ago and her hiding the no-good-cheap-way-way-off scale we previously had in the bathroom. But I bought a nicer one. And hid it under my bed. I already know the scale is evil. I know this! So why did I buy it? Because I am so consumed by this I just had to today at 2pm when I could not think about anything else so I went and bought one.

School is so much harder when I am like this. I spent three hours trying to study for anatomy last Sunday, and failed miserably. It ended in me hardly knowing anything more than I did before and sobbing in my apartment parking lot in my car for a good 30 minutes. I managed an 89% on that lab practical. But it was so much harder then it should have been. AND I should have gotten an A.

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