My sister worries. My friends ask questions. I use that as an excuse to eat. I gain six pounds. All my hard work. My blood, sweat, and tears. Gone, in my own self pity. I will return. I will reach my goal. Even if it kills me. Because if I cant feel my spine stabbing into the chair as I sit, or my collarbone potruding from my chest...
I don't want to feel at all.
Amen.
ReplyDeleteNot feeling is perhaps better than feeling like shit. We are in this together, sister. Good luck with getting back on track.
Love
~ Meg