Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Forced.
Meal plans. breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner. Liquids. Juice with every meal, me screaming about it and sitting with my arms crossed for three hours ["I AM NOT DRINKING THAT SHIT."] Dumping juice on the floor. Stuffing peanut butter toast in my bra. Hiding mushy oatmeal in my underwear. Lying. Lielielielie. 
youneedtoeatthis. WHY? because. BUTWHY? because. WHATHEFUCKISWRONGWITHYOU.AREYOUSTUPID?IASKEDWHY.

I become a monster at mealtimes. I scream. I reach for every sharp word that might hurt and I stab with it. You bitch. I hate you. I'm going to move far away.
youloseanymoreweightandthey'lltakeyouaway. I DON'T FUCKING CARE. I'D RATHER BE THERE THAN WITH YOU. arianna...

I'm awful.

I want to run away. I want to leave. It's selfish and mean and horrible but I can't do this.

1 comment:

  1. I love you. I wish I could take you away from all of that.

    It will be okay. I promise.

    Forcing food at you is a bad move on their part. It doesn't help and they should know that.
    But please, don't... I don't know. I don't want you to refuse to eat ANYTHING because they're trying to force you to eat everything.
    Do you know what I mean? Just because they're spazzing out doesn't mean you have to.

    I love you so much. <3 Sososo much. More than anything. Take care, lovely. <3333

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