Where to start? I guess with the obvious: I am loved… and I hate it.
Dad and mom got together with me and shared. They are the most wonderful, wonderful parents, I can’t stand it! They want to do what’s right, even if they have to change they’re willing. Why? Why? Why do my parents have to be so wonderful and loving and kind? Why can’t I respond to them?
Dad shared so much. They want to help. I almost broke, but I managed to keep it together… barely. That’s the bad thing though, ‘cause I’m supposed to break. But I’m stubborn and that’s bad because it’s coupled with rebellion against God, and that’s perfectly awful!
I went to Barnes and Noble tonight and read some of Marya Hornbacher’s book, Wasted – A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia. I’ve concluded that I honestly am a fake, completely and totally. Ohmyword, the stuff she went through… her family, “friends”, everything was awful. I have absolutely no right, no cause to say I’m hurting, or I’m in pain, or I need to be loved and heard. NO RIGHT AT ALL!!!!!
…tried fasting today. Failed. I’m further perpetuating this “misery” and I know it. I would say, “woe is me,” but there is no “woe” and there is no “me,” plus saying that would be pity-partyish and that’s so wrong.