Maybe A Poem?

When i look around,
I see nothing but loneliness.

When i feel loneliness,
I want to cry but cant.

When i want to cry.
I feel anger and pain.

When i feel anger and pain.
I feel shame.

When i feel shame,
I want to purge.

When i want to purge ,
I try to find what i am feeling.

When i try to find what my feelings are.
I find nothing but worthlessness and hate.

When i find all of these things inside.
I feel nothing but all of these things inside fighting against one another and then even have more hate. Hate for myself that i cant even think right.

Then the thinking even gets worse, bad enough that i go and purge it all away.
Then what do i have left?

I only have that demon inside smiling at me from within.
The feared, shameful, guilty, abandoned, terrorized, helpless, worthless, lonely me.

My name is Tammie, and I am bulimic/anorexic, and i have had this for 28 years now. I am now at my end, need help and a friend told me to write what i was feeling at that very moment and i did. This is what i wrote.


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"My diary is a mirror telling the story of a dreamer who, a long long time ago went through life the way one reads a book."
- Anais Nin

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