My body is going back into “starvation mode.” Hair falling like snow, bones popping out, nailbiting (excessively; not attractive), always cold, sore all over… this is the sort of time when I usually feel afraid this might someday kill me.
But what’s death to a suicidal person? I’ve been closer to killing myself lately than I have been in a long time. I’m not as scared as I normally would be.
It’s the same with smoking. I’ve been almost up to a pack a day, I measure my time with cigarettes, but I don’t care what happens to me.
Actually, I shouldn’t say I don’t care. That’s not true. But I don’t care as much as I feel I should.
I haven’t weighed myself in quite a while and I’m not sure if I should. It could either make things better or worse. Not that I know what “better” and “worse” even entail anymore.
Weird though: in spite of all this, my libido has spiked. I’m pretty obnoxiously horny; a very attractive dormmate/smoking buddy of mine is on my mind right now. We went for a cigarette and got on the subject of our respective significant others. As it turns out, he’s in an open relationship too.
This might just be a good weekend after all.
(Unless, of course, I start blacking out from hunger again, and/or have to return to hospital.)
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