![]() |
|
![]() |
|||||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
||||||||||||
I have a lot of journals now... But this is the only one I write as me, and I am thankful I have somewhere to outlet these problems.... I have been sick a lot lately, and my parents have stopped caring. If I won't go to school when I am ' ' getting sick ' ' - he threatens to ground me. When really he should take me to the hospital. I hate him. I didn't think it was possible to hate your own father, when he hadn't run out on you - - beat you - - or something of the sort. He does abuse me, but my scars are inside - - however corny that sounds. He has never hit me before, I don't think he ever would - ever will.... It's just. Some of the stuff he says to me. ' ' Because, I don't want an apple. ' ' ' ' I remember when you wouldn't touch that kind of stuff. ' ' ' ' Yes, because I was anorexic. It's an eating disorder, Dad. I really don't think you should be talking about this. ' ' ' ' I am just saying you looked a lot better then, you are looking alittle more than healthy now. ' ' I started to cry, and went to my room. I don't understand it. My doctor still thinks I have an eating disorder - and he tells me I am almost a normal weight for my height. But, those numbers seem so high to me. So grossly high. -shakes head.- I don't know. Maybe, I am fighting a disease. But, is it really a disease? I feel such remorse sometimes when I eat. Other times, I don't care - but, when I think about it later I feel so sick.
|
| © 2002-2008. Blurty Journal. All rights reserved. |