Hmph. (trig)

Had a horrible night. Nightmares. Causing more family problems. Being attacked. Crying. Scared.
Got up. Gained weight since Thursday. I'm so angry with myself.
It's because of Saturday night. Because I ate this morning. Because I'm so stupid and far too dependant on food.
Hazel kept calling me "skinny" yesterday. "Wish I was as skinny as you." She has no idea what that even means. Just because I'm a little smaller than she is doesn't make me "skinny". I am so far from that it's not even on the horizon anymore.
I saw my arm when I woke up. I hated myself for it. Not because I cut it. Because I didn't cut it enough.
I'm working on Friday. And again on Sunday. I can get train tickets and then have money left to do whatever I like with. I'm enjoying that thought more than I should. This should scare me. It did last night. I realised that I can't help anyone if I'm a mess myself. This morning I realised that if cutting and destroying myself is what I need to stay alive and calm. Then I'll do it. It keeps me in a position to help. Even if I'm not helping much. If it keeps me alive, and maybe allows me to help other people. Then it's all worth it. I can sort myself out later.