Every story has three sides: Your side, my side and the
truth. The truth in this story is that I don’t hate you I hate myself. I wonder
if I’ll ever be okay, if I will ever be normal - happy. I don’t expect life to
be full of unicorns and rainbows but how I’ve felt for about 5 years now is not
okay. I feel like I use my eating disorder as a crutch, but in the end it all
leads back to it. I have terrible mood swings and I often take my aggression
out on the people closest to me (in this case my roommate). When I am having a
bad day I shut down, isolate myself and want nothing more than to vanish. I
push friends away making excuses to be alone with my disorder. I get so
frustrated with myself for being so unkind to those around but I just feel so
out of control sometimes. I should have never left home and come to college. I’ve
made a mess for everyone I have come into contact with. There have been times
where I really have just wanted it to end -“It” as in me. I have good days
where I love me, but the bad days outweigh those by far.
I’m damaged goods, maybe too damaged to repair…
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