Beginning of Act 1

Okay, so I’m avoiding my therapist. It's pretty pathetic, I know. I've blamed period pains to end a session early, feigned a stomach bug, GOD, I've even lied about oversleeping and missing my alarm. And when I don't show up and she's obviously wondering what the jumping monkey FUCK I’m doing so she tries to call me – more often than not, I avoid her calls.

What it all boils down to, is that I don't want to get better. And no matter how often my therapist suggests the idea that maybe, just MAYBE, I am more than my losses, the fact remains that I am ultimately, unequivocally not.

Unemployed, depressed, an English degree that isn't worth the paper it's fucking printed on – not to mention its lack of value in terms of job prospects, a burning desire for a course I’m about to fail to land the money for (for the second year running, no less), 10lbs of extra weight due to my er... 'recovery process' and of course my anorexia.

My losses are all I have and at this point In my life, I’m not willing, not even ABLE, to let go of that. I NEED them.

SO

No more of this recovery bullshit.

I’m taking it back to the OLD school.

This is my blog.