Well, I'm alive and haven't liked it so far. I can't even have a real laugh. Its painful. I'm still not eating. If I die, I'll die pretty.
I have been dreading going to my sisters all day because she's cooking. I don't want to eat because I will hate myself. 20 seconds and the taste will be gone and I'll feel the same guilt like last time. I hate eating so much because I then hate myself so much more. I mean, the hunger pangs hurt, but the pain of looking in the mirror is worse.
I am currently sitting with my family surrounded by food and I am so fucking hungry. They kept trying to get me to eat, but I said my stomach hurt. Which, it wasn't a lie. It does hurt just not the way they think. I want to eat, but that would be a sign of weakness and I am strong. Stronger than food controlling me. All I have had today is half a cup of coffee, if that. Oh, and I've been chewing gum so I'm distracted.
Today I got cereal, but threw it away.
My mom and dad still thinks I ate it. This consists of lying, but its worth it.
It will all be worth it.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Dead Diary
Non-FictionThis is a thoughts story. So if you aren't interested then don't read. Also if you are going to read and then complain in the comments, fuck off.
