Mad at myself for being a fat worthless anxiety-ridden slob who can't get out of the dead-end job that makes me suicidal, but I obviously cant tell anyone that so I'm taking it out on everyone else.
I want to sleep for weeks or forever.
I want to never have to leave my house again, just staying inside with my kitty and wallowing in my own self-loathing and anger and sadness until I'm nothing.
And the stupid thing is, as always, I hear myself saying "if I were at least starving or purging or skinny again, this would all be ok. There'd be a silver lining in it all."
This is all just completely pointless.
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