15th August
I have endured the trials of recovery for a little over two weeks. I've already seen slight progress, and despite the pain and anxiety, I was proud of myself for finally being able to go on for so long.*
I first noticed signs of a relapse yesternight when I felt pangs of hunger and hesitated to eat. I didn't feel any anxiety —my weight has been stable, after all— but I found that I relished the feeling of being painfully empty. This worried me, for I know the dangers of enjoying the emptiness all too well.
Today, I've been neglecting my body's need for fuel. Not out of worry for my weight, nor in fear of calories. I simply haven't found it necessary to eat again. I've been making excuses ("I don't have time right now," "I'll eat later," and so on) to myself; even though I know, the consequences will be terrible.
I'm afraid I'm dancing on the border line.
I'm afraid I will fall on the wrong side.
I'm afraid I won't be able to prevent it.
*I've previously only been able to last a week at most.
0 notes
its crazy to act this way with ME of all people like i will do literally anything for your attention
4 notes
·
View notes
ok yk this is kind of good, im used to being treated like shit. idk how to handle people being nice to me so this is fine im used to being treated this way, i know i deserve it
5 notes
·
View notes
We're on call. I feel like I'm gonna fucking cry. I was so cruel earlier. I'm a terrible fucking person. I should've just left him, for his sake.
0 notes
I just asked him if he wants to call tonight. I feel like throwing up. Why did I do that. Now I'm bothering him again. I'm so fucking stupid. Why am I always like this.
0 notes