February 2nd, 2013
Relapsed last week, and while I still feel terrible, I haven't done it again. People ask me if I'm okay a lot. I don't know if that's because I'm worse of if I'm so tired of putting on a happy face. I'm so tired of everything--I go so quickly from content to miserable, sometimes both at once, but in different dimensions, sort of. God, I definitely need help, and I would get some if I didn't have to go through my parents. The happier other people get, the worse I feel. And I feel so guilty and ashamed of this and my body and what I eat all the time, it's like I'm always making those awkward cover-up jokes and being overly loud and happy the way people do when they've just done something embarrassing. It's embarrassing to live in my own body.