I just don’t care any more about recovery. At all. Nothing. It annoys me sometimes. But not enough to really be getting better.
I’m just fine with it. Don’t throw up any more. Don’t take any laxatives or anything. Got a motherfucking good metabolism so I don’t really put on weight.
Therefore, I guess there are no much risk right now. But not caring at all about an eating disorder seems weird actually. I guess I just got used to it - after, like, more than four fucking years.
…where I am, I don’t know, I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.by Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable (via frenchtwist)
