Work Text:
08/06/2026
Today dragged on, as usual. Woke up, empty stomach, belly aches. Took laxatives the other day, and I'm losing weight again. Anorexia at its peak. Got my usual espresso macchiato (ft. Tommy Ca$h) and was ready to hit this awful day.
First of all: I didn't study for my upcoming exams, Commercial Law, with 1,500 pages, and an English test. All in less than 10 days. Will I pass them? I dunno. I kind of don't care anymore. Anorexia makes me feel like nothing matters at all.
Then what else? Well, I hoped to go to the beach and sunbathe, because at least I can look nice, but I didn't go because Mom had to "cook" (literally nothing, because she's into Ana too). Then we all went to clean the house we're renting out to people on holiday. At least today nobody shat (yeah, shat) on the walls.
Story time about how a customer left the house in horrific condition even though they stayed only one night: there was shit everywhere—on the doors, on the floor, on the dishes, and on the kitchen table—plus three whole bins of trash.
Anyway... today I overate. Like, I had 1,059 calories. Horrific, right? But I managed to skip dinner.
Today I planned on starving, but that didn't happen. We're on an extremely tight budget for the thousandth time, and yet there's always alcohol in the fridge and cigarette packs lying around.
I hate my parents for not acting like parents, but then I realize it doesn't really matter because they'll never learn from their mistakes. I just don't want to be the one who has to fix their bullshit sometimes.
Why can't I have a normal family that loves me no matter what, instead of having to be sick for them to notice me? Why can't they love me even if I don't overachieve academically?
Do they even love me, or do they just need me?
I wish I could save my siblings from what will happen to them because, just like ABBA sang, "the history book on the shelf is always repeating itself." I wish they could avoid getting eating disorders, being lonely like I was during my teen years, and learn to relax instead of constantly trying to please people.
Now I'm digressing too much. Kind of feel like Dostoevsky right now.
Now, I'm writing something this personal for a bunch of strangers for the first time, and it makes me feel like such an attention whore. My dears, if you've reached this point, I must say thank you for being patient and reading my rant. There will be more to come.