Merry fucking Christmas and another (not) Happy New Year
Eating disorders fucking suck.
I spent Christmas Day surrounded by family yet completely alone. I was freezing on one of the hottest days yet (I'm Australian y'all). I barely ate, and lied to people about having eaten.
I spent New Year's Eve crying and exercising because I felt bad about eating a bag of grapes and a couple protein bars.
I cried because I wasn't supposed to make it to 2019.
The scale says 38.6 kgs. Last time I checked anyway.
I have my appointment with the ED service today. In about 12 hours.
I'm terrified.
Hope I get admitted
I can't do it anymore
I just want to die
I have plans to end it all, if things don't get any better after the appointment.
Eating disorders suck. It's ruined my life. I just want my life back. I want to be happy and healthy and eat sandwiches and ice cream and not cry over a bowl of pasta.
Please get help. It's not worth it.
As much as I want to die, I'm getting help.
I'm going to be honest with them. No point in lying.
The eating disorder is telling me I don't need hospital, just lie and say you're better than you are. Just do what they say but hide food and lie. Get worse and worse and worse.
You just need to hit 36 kgs. Then 33. Then 30, and hey, while you're at it, why not get under 30, right? Why not get down to 25 and officially have lost half of your original body weight?
It would never end. I want to get better.
I just need help. I need to go away for a bit. I need to eat. Properly and a lot. I can't live on fruits and veggies and oatmeal. I need to live my life, not just survive.
I don't know what this is. Just some weird ramble I guess.
I just hate myself. But I hate my eating disorder more.














