I’m not even sick enough to warrant help. I’m a fucking failure. I feel sick right now. I don’t know how much I ate, I was trying not to keep track today. TRYING no to be so obsessive about calories. So I was just listening to my stomach and at dinner, I was really hungry. I ate. and ate. and ate. and I feel so full.
I don’t know what it is, i was perfectly fine. Fine with everything I ate. Then the feeling of being full hit like no other and my mind just took off. And I can’t throw it up….I have a race tomorrow. I don’t want to risk dehydration or throat problems or bloating or anything that comes with puking. UGH I CANT FUCKING STAND IT. I hate myself. I need to talk to someone right NOW. I hate this i hate this i hate this. It fucking sucks. There are so many things going through my head right now. Half of them are telling me to stay strong and the other half is begging me to get rid of everything I ate. Pleading to undo the food disaster. WHO AM I? I don’t know which voice is MINE. Am I the one hating myself and wanting so badly to puke or am I the one fighting to recover? What do I want? I don’t know! I’m scared. I can’t figure it out. I want my eating disorder. I am fat without it. It keeps me safe.
I’m always safe here. There is comfort. comfort in dying? comfort in disease? But it’s dark here. Why can’t I keep the light? It’s as if I want to be here. In the dark. alone. safe, but scared and dying slowly.
I don’t know what my favorite color is.