Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!

i live to eat and eat to puke and puke to eat and eat and puke and cry and THAT IS ENOUGH. 

THAT IS ENOUGH AND I HAVE HAD IT. i can give you myriad reasons why, all the metaphors and neatly-tied psychology, it's not really about food at all, no, but in the end it comes down to this: an ingrained response, and addiction. a tantrum-screaming parasitic three-year-old living in the brain, demanding attention. a three-year-old with razor teeth and voluminous lungs that screams and screams and screams and swallowed me whole just then, a few days or a week or months ago when i ceased to care and ceased to fight and ate and puked and ate and puked and slept and woke and ate and puked. 

but i have got to fight, haven't i? haven't we all? because there is a shred of ourselves left in there somewhere that wants to see light again, grass, the smell of the sea, and not the inside of the toilet bowl. 

who am i kidding. those words are empty. i am not this lofty and strong. in truth i have had it and i must break the cycle because in it i am in agony, i am out of control and i am afraid of myself. 

well. it's a start. i have a plan i won't share because then i won't keep to it. but i have a plan.