My mum seems to think I’m not eating for attention. That I like being like this.
Fuck that isn’t true. I hate this. So much.
I don’t do it for attention. Why would I?
According to her, I want to die. And yeah, I kind of do but not like this.
I have just completely gone off food. I don’t want to eat. I don’t like the smell of food. I don’t like the sight of food. I don’t like the thought of food. I’m even going off bacon.
I just don’t want to eat anymore. I can only eat a little bit before I feel sick. Once at that stage, I can’t watch others eat. I just hate it.
Just the thought of food right now makes me so incredibly sick. My mum is trying to make me eat more. I’m losing too much weight. But food doesn’t hold anything for me anymore.
The thing is, apart from my family and Wissam, I’m fairly certain no one else cares. But I would eat if I knew someone I really, really cared about also cared. Like, I love my family and Wissam but they don’t hold that power over me. They don’t make me want to eat to survive.
Mum thinks taking me to a doctor will help. I don’t think it will. It’s not even like I want to be is skinny. I don’t. I find myself disgusting, but I am not in the right mind set to want to put weight back on.
No one makes me want to put weight on. In fact, maybe one person but they probably don’t give a fuck so I guess they don’t matter.
None of my friends have noticed though. None of them see how skinny I’ve gotten. None of them actually care. I guess that’s a nice feeling isn’t it.
Even my clothes are getting too big. Clothes that used to fit or even be a little tight on me are now too big. Like fuck.
I don’t even know why I am doing this. No one cares. I guess this is maybe a diary? idk. It bothers me.
Mum is talking about taking me to Tesco and she will let me get whatever I want to eat just so I actually eat and put weight on. She’ll probably stop me going out so I don’t walk off the weight and idk.
meh, it’s whatever. I don’t even care if I waste away to nothing.
I wore shorts today and seriously, the entire day I was worried they would go up and my mum would see my cuts like ugh. that and I am incredibly self conscious about my legs ugh.
This is just great. Before, I used to be 102 pounds while wearing clothes. Now I’m only 100 pounds meaning I’ve lost two pounds. Fucking great.
So I’m weighing now 98 pounds but I finally have that gap between my thighs so it isn’t that bad. But I don’t understand how I’m losing weight given I haven’t done anything and I’ve been eating more.
I just don’t know.
when you text me first, it tells me that you actually want to talk to me. I feel wanted.
Maybe it’s me. In fact, I know it’s me. Why would it be him? I have this knack for just pushing people away. God, this is all my fault.
I love talking to you, so fucking much. But again, conversation seems forced and I’m sure it’s because I’m a fucking bitch, great.
Everyone leaves me eventually and it’s my own fault they do. You won’t be any different. You’ll leave me like everyone else did and I will just have to get the fuck over it.
I won’t be able to do anything about it. This is going to be great. Just fucking great. You are one of the only people were you barely have to say hi and I feel better.
God, I’m such an idiot. Why do I do this? Fuck fuck fuck. I’m sorry. I can totally understand why you would get bored of me. I’m not that interesting. I just….it’s hurts because I made an effort. At least, I think I did. And now that doesn’t matter. Because it feels like everything is falling apart anyway.
I might be wrong. Things might go back to normal tomorrow, everything will be all hunky dory. And to be honest, I wish it will but I am not too sure. Ugh. Fuck.
I love talking to him. Like, more than anything in the world. But our conversation seems more forced now and I’m positive it’s my fault. I wish things were easy. I wish I could tell him I felt like this. I wish. I really wish. Ugh.
I thought going through this would hurt a bit more. But I feel completely indifferent.
