I am a coward

I binged.
And binged.
And binged until I was in physical pain.
Then I binged some more.

My body was in excruciating pain, yet I ate, bite after bite. I forced food down my throat. Why?

I don’t know. I just felt the need. The compulsion.

And then I purged. What an amazing release.

Now I sit here, just hating myself.

I am disgusting. I am filth. I don’t deserve food. I don’t deserve anything. I am lower than low.

I considered sewing my mouth shut. Not just a fleeting thought, I actually got out my needle and thread. I want to, but I lack the courage. I hate myself for binging and I hate myself for being too much of a coward to sew my mouth closed.

Instead, I got out my black sharpie and wrote “STOP” on my hand in big letters. I strongly hope this will be enough of a reminder.

I doubt it.

My mind is a repeat track of self-loathing and disgust.

Over and over, it plays, non-stop. There is no escaping it. Even while I’m distracted it plays in the background of my mind, sometimes becoming just loud enough to draw my attention back to it.

It haunts me. It taunts me. It ridicules me. It follows me. It beats me down.

I wish I could sew my mouth shut, but I lack the courage.

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