I want to be strong. But for some strange reason, I want to be pitied.
I want the people I love to CARE for me.
I don’t want them to be worried
I want them to be worried
What is wrong with me
I haven’t gained. Thank God. But I’m still so afraid. I’m afraid of slipping back into a self destructive behavior again. Scared of how I felt like I was dying, how my heart felt like it would give out on me. But still, I still glorify that point of time.