Last night I couldn't use the bathroom after dinner because someone else was. I ate one normal sized meal all day. I felt so full when I was done. When my father asked me to take out the trash (I hate doing manly chores) it was the first time I was happy to do it. I think it's too gross to explain, but I bet anyone could guess what happens next anyway. I want to move on from this, but I'm not even trying. I want to stay this way, but I want to be healthy. I'm like a zombie. I can't feel anything--not even hunger. As soon as I smell something very fattening, and immediately felt full. I want to be okay with myself. I want to feel beautiful. Life is a gift, and I'm wasting it. I'm wasting it on fear. I have so much turmoil confined in my head. I don't want to go back to treatment. Or do I?
Why won't I let anyone love me?
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