Acute Sinus and Respiratory Infection.

Not helped by the fact that, up until three days ago, I was partying every night for weeks, literally. Every night, I'd go out, rage hard, watch myself do these things, say these things, feel these things, see how sick I was getting, and push it back, back, back, pretend I didn't care, because halfway I didn't.

It catches up. Remember that. It will always catch up with you, eventually.

For a moment, thought it was the flu. I was throwing up a bit. Honestly couldn't tell you if it was from actually being sick, a weak gag reflex, or the bulimia refusing the food to settle.

Broke my seven months of abstinence with a twenty-one year old Viking. Neither of us got off, but apparently he's liked me for over a year. I like him, I suppose. He's intelligent, funny. He's also an alcoholic, needs a bottle of whiskey every day. I don't like the smell of whiskey, the taste of it even less.

I don't like what I see in the mirror. My reflection is haunting. Perhaps that's why I bury myself under all these chemicals and induced bliss. Perhaps I think I'll find my way to the divine that way. Half the time I think so. Then I'm reminded by the sober light of day, the few hours I've seen lately, that I'm still that sad, lonely girl. I'm still just looking to fill the void.

At least I'm honest about it.
At least I own up to it.
That counts for something... doesn't it?