thank you. I'm tired.
I'm sleepy.
I'm spent.
I'm stressed.
I'm stretched.
I'm barely holding on.
I'm desperate.
I'm close to giving up.

I need reassurance, comfort, support, cheering, a listening ear and even a little humour.
I don't need you to tell me that i've put on weight again and i'm looking fatter than ever.
But for some reason you seem to think that i need you to let me know just how much weight i've put on.
And so you do tell me. I shrug it off and walk away. I pretend it doesn't matter to me a pathetic attempt to hold on to what dignity is left i guess.
What else can one do?

For some sick morbid reason i hope i die in my sleep tonight and then you'll regret forever that THAT was the last thing you said to me before i died - that i was FAT.  ¶ 9:33 AM