...I'm going to suffer from anorexia for the rest of my life, aren't I? It's not going to magically go away, is it...? Not even after seeing psychiatrists and psychotherapists and nutritionists... Not even after attending several sessions of group therapy a week... Not even after all the soul searching... Not even after I thought I'd finally figured out why I do it... Not even after all the health scares... The abnormal heartbeats... The blacking out... Not even after losing my job... my friends... my relationships... my hair... my mind...
Why me? WHY ME?
And why can't I do it? Just EAT twenty, no fifteen, no ten, five, ok three... Two and a quarter bites. No, two. Two bites. Ok, two bites and a glass of cold water for dinner.
I know it's serious but I just... I'd rather die than stop, but I really don't want to die! And I don't want to live like this forever! BUT I DON'T WANT TO EAT. I DON'T WANT TO PUT ON WEIGHT. I DON'T WANT TO BE FAT. IT'S NOT THE WAY I'M BUILT. WHEN I PUT ON WEIGHT I LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND I DON'T LOOK LIKE ME. I DON'T WANT TO STOP EXERCISING. I DON'T WANT THE DAYS TO JUST PASS ME BY.
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