I know I shouldn’t be ordering books that are pro-eating disorder, or looking at thinspiration sites, or going back through old journals to see what I wasn’t eating (or what I did eat and threw up). I shouldn’t be drawing on myself with a red sharpie to show all the places I hate myself and wish I could just cut away. I shouldn’t be listening to the voice in my head telling me I will never be good enough, and I shouldn’t be losing myself in my dark thoughts.
But tonight I am doing all of these things and I don’t feel like stopping.
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