Made Dinner


It’s chicken noodle soup. Should be easy. It’s not. Fuck treatment. Fuck Eating. I’m angry, I’ve identified that emotion I was numbing. It’s pure anger and frustration. Damn body image issues, damn fucking refeeding syndrome, fuck it all. My parents aren’t here, I made dinner myself. I don’t know where my sister is, and I don’t want to ask her for help. I pray I actually finish this because I don’t want to go to treatment tomorrow feeling like a complete fucking failure.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s