Binging.

Help, I have done it again.
I have been here many times before;
I hurt myself again today,
and the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

There's a voice. It tells me:
Eat. Eat until you can eat no longer, until there is no physical way possible for you to swallow another morsel. This is the last time you will eat for a while.
So I do. I eat until I am gagging with every bite of food that passes through my greasy lips. I eat meringue until there is a sickly-sweet, foamy film that coats my mouth; I eat pickles until my mouth burns from an excess of vinegar. I sit on my bed with crumbs around my mouth, loathing myself and food.

I really don't know what I'm going to do with myself. I'm stuck in a cycle of bingefastbingefastbingefastbingefastfastbingecleansesmallbingefastfatfatfatfatfatfat
I wish I wasn't able to taste. I wish that it was excruciating for me to consume solid foods. I wish I didn't have heaps of fat swallowing me whole. I wish I could look in the mirror and see thinthinthin instead of what I see instead. I wish I could break this cycle and go back to just restricting. I wish just restricting were enough. I wish I was strong.

No food tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, or the next day.

I have lost myself again,
lost myself, and I am nowhere to be found.
I think that I might break;
I have lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Love you.
Margie.