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But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.

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One Last Try, or Else I Die

Widget is okay. He is sleeping right now. I had a hard time getting him to drink water, but eventually he did. His fur was so matted from sweat when I picked him up, and he cried. I felt terrible.

"Please let him be okay God. Please let him not have cancer." I ask this, but I do not know if he listens for animals. He has never listened for any of my other animals. Red had to be put down. Mouse, my cat, was run over. None have simply died of old age. They have all died too young...

But Widget is the most precious to me out of all of them. He has shown me more affection than any of them, and I have had him longer before something went wrong. Mouse was very precious to me as well, but I only had her two years before she got run over, and I wasn't living here. But I still cried for days. And I still miss her terribly. Red was my grandparents. I was four years old then, and still remember the weeks before he was put down so clearly. No one told me, but I knew. And Buddy. I still have Buddy. But he is the family dog. I found him, but he keeps to himself, though he is the sweetest pit-rot ever.

And because of this I made a choice today. I would take 30 units of insulin. I would not purge. I binged, but I did not purge. Few can understand the magnitude of this accomplishment when I am so close to the weight I want to be at. Because it means tomorrow I will gain. But I do not want to die, I want to live. And I want to be healthy. It is not a life lying in bed all day, trying to will the body to move, being scared because your chest hurts, sweat caked on the neck, an unquenchable thirst and a diminishing eyesight.

My mom bought me a book called, "I Believe In You." It made me want to cry. She marked a poem in it for me. A poem about being everything you can be, and being something grand because you can.

So tonight I took my insulin. And I am so scared. I am scared of what it entails, but I am also scared of what this eating disorder does to me.

I must recover. I must... There is no maybe anymore.

1:52 a.m. - 2004-02-13
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