you tell me about your success, but what have you gained when you are proud of your loss?
less, and less, "just a little bit more", you lose a part of yourself everyday and take pride in it, you open schrodinger's box and you're glad when the cat is dead, you **** yourself in the name of "living well".
what did the child inside you do to you?
why do you starve it, deprive it, and punish it for not looking sickly, emaciated, tortured enough? why do you love pain so much?
but alas, by all means, go ahead, hurt yourself more, it won't ever be enough. you know it.
blame yourself, blame your parents, blame god. in the end, you can take the kid from the abuse, but never the abuse from the kid.
don't do unto yourself what they have done to you.