Had another session with Dietician. Why do I let it torture me so? The session just sucks the wind out of my sails, sucks out the life and makes me a ghost.
I hate living in this body with everyone else.
I hate feeling dirty and unclean.
I hate that I can’t get off the effing exercise machine.
I hate how the number on the scale defines me.
I hate that food tortures me.
I try and tell myself that it’s just food. It can’t hurt me. It won’t jump off the plate and attack me. But my head doesn’t believe it and neither does my heart.
When I see me I see fat; I see a loser and a failure; I see someone nobody likes. I see damaged goods until I can’t see anymore.
I don’t know how I ever thought I could recover. I forgot why I started trying. I’ve lost my motivation. I don’t want to do this anymore.