Path of destruction.
Sweating. Breathing heavily. Dragging my own body through the path of destruction. Although it is too late for my soul, I still wonder, is it too late for my body as well? After all, I did cut off all harmful things, I felt the need to protect myself. Not now though, I don't know when it started, but I began to realize how much I hated myself a couple of weeks ago. The first thought was "I want something bad for my health. I NEED something bad for my health". After two years of struggle, two years of resisting temptation, I felt the urge to feel those poisonous drinks to fill my body, and I gave in to my urges. For me to feel better, I had to make my body suffer. Slow death, is there a more torturous way? I want to suffer. I want to hate myself even more. I want to drown in my sorrows. Sometimes I don't even wish to treat my depression. I like being broken, and I like the scars on my souls, I do not wish to heal them nor wish they haven't been inflected. Every once in a while, I would get really mad that violent images would pop into my head, of course they are not so violent, but they are to me, for I have never even thought of hurting another person. A picture of me hitting a person's face with a shoe would pop into my head, or hitting someone so hard they'd get hurt, these pictures frighten me. Even though I know there is something wrong with me for wanting to be sick, I do not want to be the violent kind of sick, I do not want to hurt anyone else, only myself.