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My childhood was dysfunctional to say the least. My maternal grandparents house was my salvation. My Grandma cooked HUGE elaborate meals 3 times a day. I learned to associate food with her warmth & caring nature. When I am depressed, I over eat. I go from one extreme to another. Sometimes I don't eat at all. I think it is my way of punishing myself for being unloved.
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If you look at your reflection, is it all you want to be? What if you could gaze right through the cracks? Would you find yourself afraid to see?
~NIN~
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