It’s scary, sad and part of my life. I have never looked like this, and I never will. I am a food addict. I willingly and seriously killed myself slowly with food. I ate and ate and ate, never able to appease the devil inside of my mind. It was a cycle, gorge without paying any attention to the things I shoved down my throat only high while the food was swallowed and then HATING myself for doing it (again.) I took my life back, I own my body, I am still sick inside myself. There is a new and equally sinister voice, it sounds like my own and it sounds like a friend. I am aware that this can kill me, just as binge eating can. I am aware that this can hurt my family. I actively work with these realities everyday. It feels like a balancing act, sometimes it is so hard and I am so tired I think, “EAT FUCKING EVERYTHING.” Then another self hisses, “EAT NOTHING. ONLY A PIG, A FOUL CREATURE NEEDS FOOD.”
I close my eyes and I think of everything I have learned and everything I know of myself, I think of the struggle and of God. I move forward.
Alternate challenges: seeking solace, drive, insanity, no time, expectations, abandoned, dying, illusion, keeping a secret, fairy tale, horror, traps, mirror, drowning, solitude, spiral
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