aliceifrailova

[...] It felt good to hurt myself. It felt so good to limit myself. And so starvation was my next addiction. And with it came drugs. Because I couldn’t stand the starvation. I needed something to take me away from ‘reality,’ and so drugs tamed my hunger for a few hours. Every school event I’d go to, every meeting I had with friends, I was tanked with pills. When we went to an ice cream shop, I was so high that I would ‘forget’ to order. I’d be cracking jokes and laughing and making the others laugh and after hours have gone by, we would leave and they would notice I hadn’t eaten anything. I wo

The First Stages of Fury I’m not very creative with words. That’s my sister’s forte. But I do have something to say. And that is that I am angry. I know that I’m experiencing anger because of the usual symptoms: My face is flushed, my heart rate- elevated, my fists are clenched- as is my jaw. But if I was simply angry, that would be all good. I know how to control my anger. For the most part. But anger doesn’t stop at anger. Anger goes onto hatred; then onto self-loathing; then onto self-pity; then onto sadness; and, finally, onto deep despair. During the time that it has taken me to type the above paragraph, it