fucking hell
i’m going to cry.
i need to cut.
but i can’t
why can’t the world stop so i can destroy myself?
The male species is stupid.
Thanks for asking if I’m upset or not. I appreciate that. What I don’t appreciate is that if you think I’m upset in the first place, I probably am, even if I say that I’m fine. Thanks for walking away now.
Dad: Are you upset about something?
Me: No, I’m fine.
Dad: Okay. Don’t say I didn’t ask. *drops topic instantly*
And then if I ever say that I’m upset he’ll turn it all around and say that it’s MY fault because I didn’t say anything.
I can’t say anything. It doesn’t work that way for me.
Cut cut cut
I need to cut myself until I die.
I’m going to run two miles, not four. But I promise that I will run four miles next weekend. I’m just super busy today and I don’t think I have the time. Okay, warming up and going out now.
As soon as everybody goes to sleep I am going to the basement to exercise. I need to burn at least a hundred calories.
Lean leg pyramid.
Some yoga and Pilates.
Waist hooping.
Push ups.
Sit ups.
Until I can’t move.
why did i let myself eat so much chocolate? why did i let myself eat so much?
