7:30 p.m.


I know I said I wasn't going to write anymore, but to be honest I don't have anyone else to talk to. I have no friends really. Jackie has her own life, and my other friends don't know me very well. At least not well enough that I feel comfortable telling them these things.

My mother is at work until 9:00pm. I have to be out of the house by then. She's sick of me, and told me I have to leave. I guess I don't blame her.

Today, the garbage disposal rotted apart from my bulimia. My purging has literally corroded steel.

After effects of a bulimic in your house

I feel so disgusting.

Just for the record, that's not vomit there - it's just corrosion and years of gunk. It didn't fall apart from me using it today, it fell while my mother was getting a glass of water.

I guess it'll be another night in the car with country music playing non-stop, but this time I'll be completely alone.

My life is so dysfunctional it's pathetic. But damn it, I'm trying.

I signed up to volunteer at two separate places for 4 hours each week. I specifically chose places I knew would challenge me to be a better person - things that I claim to hate, but really I'm just afraid of them.

I want to be a good person. More than anything, I do.

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