Today has not been the best of days ladies. On the eating front I've had too much. 700 calorie breakfast, 100 calorie noodles, 350 calorie meal out with Drummer [the boyfriend. I've forgotten what name I gave him], and now 500 in binge. 1650 is disgusting.
I had to leave work early because Drummer's mum has lumps. And Drummer is very worried and needed my support. And it's also likely to be the last time I see him till the 10th of April, as he's going to Tenerife. My dad met him when he picked me up, and introduced himself as "the motherfucking gangster". Mortal cringe right there.
Then I picked my sister up from gymnastics and it turned out she'd injured herself and torn all of the ligaments in her foot. Fucking hell, I spent from 9pm till 12:30am at the hospital waiting for them to fucking diagnose what was wrong. Amazing NHS services anybody?
And on top of all this, my friend who started self harm told me that if I came to see him, he'd cut himself. I still feel more angry than words can express, and want more than anything to cut again. To feel the rush, the blood. To know I've gotten what I've deserved. And as selfish as it sounds, I hate him for making me feel that way.
Oh and due to my laziness, my snakebites are becoming infected. I also have a lump that's developed on the inside of my mouth, next to one of them. Any ideas what that may be?
The 30th was not my day. And as it's now 01:04 am on the 31st, I'm hoping it'll become better, but I can't convince myself that's right. I'm restless, wanting to feel pain, wanting to purge, wanting to take laxatives. I probably will SH. I can't purge for fear of my snakebites. And I've run out of laxatives.
Strict regime from now on. I will weigh in on Saturday, and I know it'll be excrutiatingly painful.
Apologies for the rant.
~Twigs.