Monday, November 21, 2016


Trying is really fucking hard.

I decided to try this week. I spent a few hours last night cooking meals for the next seven days. I have stacked containers in my fridge filled with breakfasts, lunches, dinners and snacks. I'm going to do it this week.

I'm sick of being sick, and tired of being tired.

No one said it would be easy. But no one said it would be this fucking hard either.

I spent an hour lying in bed literally shaking not knowing what to do with myself when I wanted to binge and purge. I'm now groggy on ativan and still want to binge and purge.

But I can't. My roommate is my accountability.

The thing is, I don't even want to binge and purge. But I need to. I crave the endorphin rush that comes with the large intake of sugar, and the dopamine rush after the purge. I don't know what else to do with myself. My back is sore from carrying these emotions around instead of flushing them down the toilet.

Why is this so god damn hard.

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