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I miss this blog. I miss having my computer. My friend brought up about how skinny I looked last year during this time. I was at my lowest. I come onto this blog sometimes, and it’s so triggering. So a part of me is happy I don’t come here often. I don’t know. I would go back in time in a heartbeat to be at my lowest again. I don’t care how miserable I was. That number meant something. I couldn’t see what I looked like then. I still can’t see it now, but I know I’m not at my lowest, so I know I look digusting. I just crave it. I miss it. It has’t left me. My disorder is always in the back of my mind and not a day goes by that I don’t think about it. Not one fucking day.

I also turned 18 today.

I love having someone that can come over, and we can cuddle, kiss, talk and just all of that cute shit. It’s been so long since I let anyone show me attention.

I feel like you still know nothing about me. You commented on my hip bones tonight.. thank you!(:

blogging from a phone fucking blows

It’s all getting better. Slowly, but it’s getting better.