1 chicken rice meal, I finished EVERYTHING.
1 cup of coconut ice cream
Woa where's the bitchy voice in my head when you need her?
But the most sadistic thing about it is that I enjoyed watching the blood drip onto the white tiles.
I don't SI anymore, but this gives me relief.
Maybe I am a freak of nature.
i don't want to die.
i don't want to be fat.
i want to be skinny skinny skinny.
dinner was a game played in a mind meant for two.
i want to eat.
just a little! please!
just a little bit more.
no! stop it!
last, i promise.
i'm so afraid of this disease that i kept stuffing myself.
i overate. i'm too full. and i'm disgusted with myself.
but i'm not a vomit machine. i will NOT stick my finger down my throat and vomit my guts out.
i don't want to die.
but i don't want to be fat.
more restraint next time. i swear, i swear.
I'd rather be dead than fat.
but i won't be ok forever.
i don't have the urge to pop pills to light a joint anymore.
but my obsession is coming back.
bones are beautiful.
It's killing me, it really is. I can feel my brain die a little bit every time I pop a pill. But I keep taking them because I know that everything, all my worries and problems and pain will just fade away.
It's unhealthy, I know, and I've been clean for a few months now, mainly because my friends around me have stopped using and I didn't want them to think that I am addicted.. I can hold back... But every once in a while, my mind reminds me of the awesome feeling it gives me... And for a few hours, all I do is debate with myself whether or not it's worth it to succumb. I've always won.. But I know that I won't win forever.
Before calling the cops on me, I'm ok. I don't need help. It's just a stupid little rant I have to get out of my system before I start making desperate calls.
For a period of time, I was free from destruction and pain.. But every single fucking time it comes back to this. I've tried so hard to be strong... But I suppose the Angel with the broken wing isn't meant to fly.
I've cut deeper than what I've ever tried to.. It was so deep my flesh opened like a valley and I thought I accidentally sliced a piece of my flesh off.. For a comical moment, I was scrambling all over the floor looking for a piece of my flesh while I was bleeding like a maniac. It scares me because I was so satisfied with myself. The scar is now an angry red, sometime itching, but sometimes, it disgusts me so much.
Why do I always return? Why why why?! Once an alcoholic, forever an alcoholic?
I feel like a fucking sadist! And here you are, my sadistic people, welcoming me with open arms.
Is it even more sadistic because of the fact that I actually feel welcomed?
It feels like coming home.