< Cat ((Bag))
>
So uh.
Today.
I told my mom that I have an eating disorder.
It was terrifying. I regret it.
She's really worried about me.
I wish she was mad.
God.
I'm going to the doctor tomorrow. We're going to see about a counselor.
I'm so fucking scared. I'm so fucking torn up over this. It's awful, it feels awful, I didn't want to admit it for real and now I have.
Jesus.
I don't want to face this, I don't want to look at it and pick it apart and admit that something is WRONG with me. Something is very, very, very wrong with me and I don't want to admit it.
But it's too late now, isn't it?
I've stepped outside of my nice warm Denial House and the door is locked behind me and there is no. going. back.
The only thing to do is let myself get carried off and made 'better', made mentally okay.
But part of me just doesn't want to BE okay. Part of me just says hey, the okay people are shallow. You're deep now. You have dimension.
What if they mellow me out so much that I go flat?
What if all that I really am is a disorder and they take that away? Then what am I?
I guss I'm trying to say... it's safe here, you know?
It's safe where I can hurt myself.
At least, it was, when it was a secret.
Now it's not a secret and the people who will do something about it know about it.
God. Fuck. I'm so scared of this.
x
Previous |
Next
