Not The Continuation

Oh how I wish my damn foot would stop shaking every time calories come near me. It is so fucking noticeable. But I don't know what else to do. The anxiety is crippling and I feel like I can't even move. Yet nobody fucking understands. Or they do and just don't actually want to help. LIKE HELLO I AM ALONE. HELP ME. In other exciting news, Sarah and I are actually on good terms again. To the point where she actually cares. And is letting me practice with the team this year even though I won't be competing. Under one condition, I have to bring food with me to practice. So, I guess I have one person who cares. Or actually a bunch considering the outpour of support (or more like tough love) I have gotten from pretty much everyone at the gym this past week. That's semi-cool. But like hello treatment team please realize that I don't even know what I look like in the mirror. And that every bite is becoming harder and harder. Like honestly if Ensure wasn't so gross, I would just drink those and be done. I can't do this. I just fucking can't. I am so fat. And such a disappointment. Like how can anyone even stand me?  Ugh. Oh and I am officially back obsessed with watching the Anorexia stories on youtube. Like they totally interest me. And just reconfirm that I am not actually that sick. Like they are so much worse than me. So, I must be fine. I'm not sick.