My mother told me yesterday that I'm losing weight
She said it with a smile one her face, and she said it happily.
Typically people are happy when they're losing weight...right?
I tried to eat breakfast the other morning and the smell of the cereal in my bowl made me so nauseous i dry heaved for 30 minutes.
Since I couldn't get near food. I decided to have a cup of water for breakfast, slowly sipping it until I got off the phones for lunch. I tried to make myself lunch. The smell of cooking burgers made my stomach tear itself apart, I'm starved. I feel like I haven't eaten in days.
I haven't.
I manage to eat a little under half of the burger before the nausea returns.
I don't try to eat dinner that night.
The past 2 weeks have been a repeat of this same day, over and over and over.
Make food, try to eat.
Can't eat puke.
And then she told me that.
That I'm losing weight.
I can't breathe. I can't even see straight.
Anorexia. Bulimia.
These words are old friends, the kind of friend you cut out of your life because they were always fake to your face and trash to your back.
The kind of friend who was always there for you in all of the wrong ways.
Who gave you bad advise because they knew you'd listen and make a fool of yourself.
The kind of friend who when they hit you up 5 years later, all you want to do is slam the door in their face, but since they came in through the window while you slept you never got a chance.
Gods these friends might kill me.
I hope I don't let them.
The Ghost of the Fallen Angel
YOU ARE READING
Random
RandomJust random things that i randomly write for some random reason or another. Some of it is depressing, some isn't. Most of it is found in old journals. All of it is from my heart. (Also I'm condensing most of my older posts on here all onto this one)
