Dear diary,
Okay this entry might be a little depressing or triggering more so than others even.
Okay so first I want to discuss my opinion of my eating disorder. It started because I was always picked on for being kinda fat and I hated my stomach myself. So I started eating a little less over the summer after seventh grade. When I came back to school I had lost 20 lbs. When I got to school I started seeing all the pretty skinny girls again. One of my best friends was and still is one of my biggest triggers. She's so skinny. Well when I started seeing all these skinny girls I wanted to be smaller. Then I started looking at thinspo and wanted to be even smaller. Soon bones became an obsession. Honestly when they are on my body bones that show are beautiful to me they show I am strong. I started listening to Ana. She became my biggest helper. She kept me barely eating she showed me how to hide it. She pushed me hard. I started eating one tiny meal a day if I wasn't on a two or three day fast at the time. Fasts were amazing to me. I loved and craved the empty feeling in my stomach. I couldn't and still can't eat without feeling guilty and like a failure after. About a month ago when I was in the mental hospital I had to give up on my eating disorder. I nearly broke down or threw up after every meal I thought about making myself throw up constantly. I haven't been able to give back in to my eating disorder yet. I honestly probably will fast til Monday after school. I know how to hide food and make it look like I eat I just have to keep having water and vitamins. I need to lose weight. I can barely feel my ribs anymore and I cried my eyes out while pinching my fat because I'll never be beautiful. I love and hate my eating disorder. I hate that it makes sports suck and takes away all my energy but I love the way my bones look when I give into it.
My opinion on my self harm next. First I wanna say what I do. I cut. I scratch. I burn myself with erasers. I choke myself. I punch myself. I bite my hands and arms. I burn myself with a straightener. I pop rubber bands on my wrist. I stab myself with pens. I pull my hair. Well that's all I can think of that I do. I do it one because I love and adore the pain. I like seeing how much pain I can handle. I like matching the outside with constant horribleness I feel inside. I do it because it's the only thing I can control in my life anymore. I do it because I love the color of blood. My favorite is cutting honestly. Maybe it's because you take something so small and shiny and pretty and it turns my body into something more beautiful. I sometimes self harm because the pain distracts me. I sometimes choke myself just because it makes me extremely happy. I honestly also simply think I deserve the pain because I am a worthless piece of shit who screws everything up.
My opinion on my depression. It has been here for a long time. It is horrible because even when things should make me feel happy they don't. It makes me only look at the bad in everything. It makes me stop caring about myself and school. It makes me cry n because it makes me feel like I can't be good enough ever. It makes me confused because I know I should feel one way but instead of feeling like that I just feel sad. It gets so bad at times it is hard to breath. It gets so bad I can't even fake a smile. It gets so bad I just want to lock my whole body in a box because it makes me feel like this worthless piece of shit no one can love. It hurts everyone I'm friends with honestly. It's horrible and hell and feels like all your demons are drowning you but you still have to watch the people you love go on with life. Honestly I hate it. It may provide more safety than happiness because I'm used to being depressed but I still hate it.
My opinion on my anxiety. I hate it. It makes me hyperventilate very easily. It makes me think I'm always going fuck up. It makes me scared everyone will leave me. It makes me scared everyone secretly hates me. It makes me ask a lot of questions because I always worry I will mess up. It makes me scared to state my opinion and ideas because I worry people will get mad at me. It makes me worry everyone is lying to me just because they don't want me to feel bad. It makes me scared of saying my concerns because o think people will get annoyed with me. It makes me worry that the past will repeat itself. It makes me care and worry too much. I honestly hate it more than my depression.
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