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Eat.
I can't eat.
Well, technically I can, the whole 'chew chew swallow' thing is easy enough to understand, but that's not exactly the point. See, I know HOW to eat, I just don't WANT to. I understand that without eating, my body will slowly start to eat away at my muscles and organs that keep me running, I just don't really care, if I die; I die. End of story.
My family cares however. My mother keeps a close watch on me whenever she can, telling me to 'eat more' or 'did you have enough calories for the day?'. To keep her happy, I have at least 600 calories a day, give or take.
The thought of the food I'm eating makes me disgusted. It makes me feel useless and lazy, my whole body lashes out into a wave of self-hate whenever I finish a meal. To numb this feeling, I will work out for an hour, hopefully burning off whatever amount of food I had consumed earlier. It's the only way I can eat, or so the only way I will eat.
A few days ago, my mother told she would have to contact someone if I didn't stop this phase I have going on. We fought about it, she arguing that if I continued like this I would surely get sick. And me, shouting how I don't need the help because this is the only way I can feel good about myself. I can't change how fast my hair grows, how tall I will be when I'm older, but what I can change is my weight. And it feels pretty ** good to be able to change something, no matter the risk.
Anyway, this is dragging on. May as well end it here.
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