Accurate.
I’ve gotten so fat because I haven’t been working out. I feel so fucking disgusting. I am so fat. I am so fat.
Skin all yummy and picked at. On the bright side, I think the medicine is working. I feel much less depressed— hardly depressed at all. Which is so wonderful, really. But the paranoia hasn’t left. And I feel constantly angry at people and overwhelmingly superior. I don’t mean to— I can’t help it. So that sucks. I’ll talk to my psychiatrist about it. Now that I don’t feel as depressed, I can accept that I may be diagnosed with something more serious than depression. That’s okay. Whether or not I am labeled, it will still be there. And I owe it to myself to be healthy :)
In case you couldn’t tell, I’ve been picking at my face again. I’ve been trying not to, but it’s hard. On my chest, too.
Speaking of, WHY do I have such a large chest. I hate it. It’s disgusting. I was hoping that after losing some weight it would go down a bit, but it hasn’t at all. And I have been losing weight. A lot, I think. I’ve barely been eating and I have no energy ever. Working out is so difficult. I have tester points on my body, like my love handles and back fat (ew). They’ve shrunk considerably. I don’t want to eat anymore. I don’t want to be anything anymore.