I found my journal.
I hadn't thought about it for three years.
I can't breathe.
My face feels numb.
I want to go back to that.
I want to go back to that so bad.
I want to be that skinny again, that powerful again.
I was so strong, to know my pain
To understand what I had to do to feel.
To not eat.
To not give in to my own petty whims like that.
She was so strong, I want to go back to that.
New year, old me.
New year, better me.
But I shouldn't, I should figure this out in a healthy manner right?
Right?
Right...
