It’s almost immediate now the sensations I feel when I eat specific foods or when I eat like trash. Or when I eat out of trash. I’ve been eating out of garbage bins for about two weeks now, and I can feel the difference. Before that I was just eating shitty in general, and that’s part of the reason the depression is back. I know that. I’m not eating enough protein. Most of my days are spent eating potatoes that the freshmen left.

I look at myself in the future, looking back at this time in my life. I know this is temporary. I know it will be better. It’s not a hope, it’s a certainty. Maybe this is funny. Or is supposed to be funny.

I’ve watched too many movies. I’ve convinced myself that I’m a hero and my journey will lead me to victory. That I will have this story to tell once I’m done, about the time I took salmon out of the trash and it was a happy day because I got to eat something my body likes. About the times where I would clean myself off in the bathrooms or lounge when I started smelling bad. About the times I would wake up really early to be out of the room before anyone entered. About the times my body was failing because I didn’t have the means to talk care of myself properly.

I don’t just have hope. I have certainty. This will end. In many ways I am holding myself back which makes this worse.

What’s my motivation in life? I’m suicidal.

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