Fatty Fatty

Given everything I’ve been through lately I haven’t really been thinking long term. I’ve been trying to get through each day without landing myself back in hospital and some days that is very hard. I’m putting on an excellent act at home, they have no idea what’s going on in my head, they just see how often I leave the house – or some days my room – and that I’m not constantly crying. They don’t see the disgusting amount of food I’ve been eating, the fresh damage I’ve made or all the organs which have been ripped out of me and nailed to the walls; they see the slightly grumpy and moody, but relatively together K. If I continue to make it through the days, weeks and months until I am in the future, being insanely fat and scarred is not going to benefit me; it will push me closer to the periphery than I already am. Complete self destruction is useless. With this revolutionary idea in mind I have tried to exercise a little self control in the last couple of days, by not eating as excessively as I have been (but still considerably more than I should). I think this is a good first step, maybe step two can be eating only a little more than I should, before finally reaching a healthy daily amount. I am not going to diet or eat less than I should to bring about weight loss. I think my goal should merely be not to gain more than I already have. As for other forms of self destruction, their turn may come, but for now I’ll tackle food.