A December Night

A story type account

The date on which I compose this is December 8, 2016, 11:30ish pm. I'm not sure if I want to publish this in this month because I'm trying to keep everything lite and merry. But this is where my headspace is. I'm going to use my dialogue illustration to show how my night with "Ed" was earlier. This is our interaction as he met me after work.

Don't get anything, you don't need anything. Don't ruin it.
But I have to. I reasoned with a whine, the pain of considering feeding myself too much.
No. You don't. Starve.
But I can't.
Yes you can.
I shouldn't. I wanted to cry at this point.
Yes you should and you have a legitimate reason to. You've been feeling sick all day.
What about something lite? 
No. You're not even hungry.
I'm really not, I don't even want anything.
So don't.
I sigh. But I have to. It feels like a knife is being twisted in my mind.
You're just going to ruin it. And I do, I "ruin it".
Good job, you're disgusting. You're fat. You're going to get huge. Again. I mean, you already are. This was so true.
But it was just--
It doesn't matter what it was, I know exactly what it was. You're not sick, you eat too much.
I have no self control, I'm just going to keep getting fatter. I've got to stop!
Well, at least I didn't have to tell you this time.
...

I've decided to just stop here because the following thoughts are not pretty at all and I'm not feeling that brave in posting them. Anyway, this is where I am and it's incredibly agonizing. I want to pull out my hair with frustration. I want to self harm because of the feelings of failure I carry after doing something as vital as eating. I want to cry and scream because of the self disgust and anger. And I want to lose weight. So, so much.