It's this time of year that gets me down. Think of all the promises that I made to myself that I could never keep. A year or binging and purging and starving and crying over food and at the end of it all I've lost is 10kg and my sanity. A year of destroying myself with needles and razors, half of it hazy and all those days that I don't even remember. A year of loving and losing and watching people walk out of my life forever. I just think of all the things I've done wrong and hope that right now I'm doing something right. I really have noone left, and I don't want to be alone anymore.
I'm sorry that I'm never good enough.

Next year I will be 42kgs. I will be pretty, I will be thin, and I will try to keep people in my life.