today I’m on autopilot. I’m broken and I don’t have the willingness to keep feeling it. so I’m numbing it.
i keep going from one extreme thought to another about being destructive and reclusive and reckless until my anorexia takes over, or trying my best to get better but still hurting and crying all the damn time.
I don’t know what to do. Well, I do. I just don’t know which one will win.
broke up with Tim on Friday.
I’ll manage, and I can make myself eat but it’s so so so much harder to do when I don’t want to do anything but smoke and sit.
I ache. Every inch of me aches with knowing he doesn’t love me like I love him. He still loves me, but he doesn’t want the romantic aspect. I don’t know what this means, I don’t want to think about it. I want to smoke, and smoke, and smoke, and smoke. And NOT let it make me relapse. I’m stronger than that. I deserve that.