"Okay. What type of thing would you want me to tell you?"
"How about what are you thinking right now? Why did you ask for help?"
"I asked for help because... it feels like I'm dying, yet I can't stop, a part of me doesn't want this feeling to end. I can tell that I'm losing weight because I read it on the scale. Half of my clothes don't fit me anymore and I still find myself wearing them. I find myself purposely drowning in sweater paws, wearing shirts that cover up the fact that my trousers are ill fitting, delightfully having to pull the neck of my shirt up off my arm and back up to rest on my shoulder. I love this feeling, I engorge myself on it; the feeling of being tiny, of being successful. I sometimes think that maybe one day, my collar bones, hip bones, rib cage, will protrude enough. Maybe I'll be happy with my weight.
But I know the reality of that one, I saw you lose so much weight you became skeletal, I saw you get hospitalised after passing out due to the lack of food consumed. I remember feeling desperate and helpless watching you waste away as you refused to let me help you. I don't want to get that bad and occasionally I feel dizzy."
This is my longest paragraph yet and wattpads telling me it only takes 58 seconds to read
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'Broken' is a state of mind (Joshler)
FanfictionRecovery is a difficult journey of course, but it is not an impossible one... at least that's what everyone hopes. // "I think I'm a suicidal freak covered in scars who has trampled down his own personality until there's nothing left but mental ill...
