The big, fat belly that spent the last three weeks perpetually bingeing.
Screw recovery. I cannot do this. Do not know how to do this.
I was not kidding yesterday when I told my nutritionist that starving seems so much easier than trying to figure out how to eat normally. It is, in fact, legitimately easier. And doesn’t make me want to off myself, despite a daily dose of Prozac
So I, being weak, choose the path of least resistance. Which, as it turns out, is also the path of least calories.
There are not words for the self-loathing I am fighting right now. Violent, murderous self-contempt.