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I've stabilized around 125lbs.


For such a long time that was the goal.

Now it feels like the goal is to just get a little worse so that I collapse.
Maybe then I won't say no to therapy.


I know what I really want. I know this isn't the way to get it. But this is my way of painting the picture that I want to see. Hunger is my palette.  Caffeine my brush.  Water my canvass.



I actually looked it up. There is an eating disorder clinic something like 5.3 miles away from me on one of the cross streets I currently live on.

I can't go.



I'm not ready to be honest with anyone. I'm not even honest to this blog. Fuck being honest. Who deserves the truth from me anyways? I earned my secrets and I'm hiding them simply because telling the secrets puts me in more danger than keeping hidden.
Also some of my secrets are damn embarrass to talk about.


I'd much rather talk about how I cleaned my fridge. It looks so nice when it has almost nothing in it. Haha... I was even scared to eat fucking kale. I don't know why... since the carotenoid antioxidants do so well for my mind.

What can I say... dietary sabotage is an excellent hobby.