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i’m hungry but i’m afraid to eat because then i’ll have energy to be slightly manic.
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today i binged and purged and cut and burned. i should probably be taking my prozac but it’s just so hard to care.
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when your slow heartbeat shudders through your whole body.
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body checking this weekend has become a sort of ocd type of comforting mechanism. the hollow pit in your hungry stomach, the tapping of collarbones…
i guess when life is so devoid of comfort you find unique ways of attaining it, even if they are self destructive.
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my abysmal diet yesterday
muesli
soymilk latte
whiskey
blondie bar
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i know i shouldn’t be, but i’m so excited to restrict tomorrow.
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I feel like I’m empty, composed of spiderwebs of disorders creating a shadow of a person.
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Orange for lunch. Soymilk latte for dinner. Goodbye meal plan.
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How can self destruction be so quiet?
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i was asked to leave iop. they said it wasn’t the right time to do it because i needed to find my motivation to recover.
i’m such a fuck up.
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i ended ten tallies behind yesterday because i felt like i didn’t deserve to eat as much since i didn’t go to the gym.
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(by heinerluepke)
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I have so little left of myself that I want to keep what I can, even if it’s fundamentally detrimental. Yet I hate myself and want to get rid of the horrible scraps that are left.
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