I don’t know why I haven’t killed myself yet. I just can’t get happy. Literally the only thing that makes me happy is watching the number on the scale drop. I’m praying to pass out and go to the hospital for it eventually. Maybe then they could see that I’m dying.
I’m scared as hell. I can’t stop hearing my mom scream all the time. Nonstop. I can’t even tell when it’s time or the real thing anymore. God, how do I keep this up.