I’m not really sure why I’m writing a post, because as usual, I have very little to say. Well, it’s not that I have a lack of anything to say, it’s that I have a lack of ability to express it.
So the summer holidays are approaching an end and due to not being kept occupied with college work and such, I have had time to reflect on things:
I really wish I had something to show for this summer; I wish I’d lost weight , but i’ve fucking gained. I am terrified to go back to college. I’m scared shitless about seeing everyone again and having to face everyone again knowing that I’ve gained, I’m worried it’s going to go even more tits up than last year; that everyone will settle back down into it and no matter how hard I try to keep up, I just won’t be able to. I am having a hard time trying to convince myself I care, but a larger part of me is so scared of failing and will do anything to avoid it. It’s obvious to anyone I have lost all clarity in my writing and can no longer articulate things as I used to.
All I want to do is binge, purge and fast. I can feel any remnants of sanity crumbling and I’m pretty sure that if I buckle and fold, I’ll stay there, permanently on my knees. And I won’t even make an attempt to get up. The fact is, no one really gives a shit; no one thinks I’ll get to my goal weight. But it’s long past the point whereby it is solely about losing weight as a means of control, it is a means of control in itself, and losing weight would just be a bonus.
I don’t care if I’m risking my future, my health, my friendships, whatever, for this. I don’t care who I make hate me in the process; I don't care if I lose everyone and isolate myself completely, infact, it would help.
I hate what this makes me, but I need this so fucking badly.
I am too much.
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