I've been seeing a therapist for a couple weeks now.
Not because of my ED, but because I'm just crazy in general.
I thought I was doing well.
I hadn't cut in over a week.
I was wrong though.
If I didn't take it out on myself, I would take it out on him.
I don't want to do that.
He already thinks I'm crazy.
Mostly because I am.
I don't know why he's still with me.
He makes me paranoid.
It's not his fault.
I'll never be the only one who matters.
I understand that now.
There were so many people who loved me.
Only me.
And I didn't want them.
I have the one I want.
But he's not all mine.
And I can't stand it.
Karma is a mother-fucking bastard.
I'm not allowed to be happy.
My heart is proof.
My mind is proof.
My arm is proof.
So whats the fucking point?
