I Got Bulimia!

Last night, I threw up in bed, in the bathroom, and all the way into the kitchen, but Debra knew that it's all my damn fault for throwing up on purpose. Then, we both have to clean up the kitchen because it smells like my vomit. We had to get some paper towels and rags to clean that shit up. It took us all night so that we've cancelled our visit to Avita Hospital. However, I thought it was so damn cool to puke in bed, in the bathroom, and all the way into the damn kitchen. That caused Debra and I to break up our friendship so that we're friends no longer, but I was thinking about moving into a group home (and I'm not gonna like it). The reason why I wanna move into a group home's because Debra had it up to here with my shit, but secretly, I wanna stay with Debra just as long as I get my shit together and straighten the hell up. I'm accountable for my actions, I reap what I sow.😟😟😟😟😟😟😟
For well over 2 years, I've fucking lied, shat in the shower, and now I've began to fucking puke everywhere in Debra's house. Debra, herself called up All-Care Services/Care Givers Home Health Care in order to cancel my self-guardianship, but then Catholic Charities is having guardianship over what I can have and what I can't have--it's maddening. Today, I've looked at a woman on the Internet who's anorexic, but I'm more bulimic than anorexic according to Debra. Despite the fact that I threw up on purpose, I must be having bulimia nervosa. Moreover, Debra and I were cleaning house due to the rancid stench of my own damn vomit, but at suppertime, I had a couple of crackers and a clean glass of water.😞😞😞😞 By the way, I love my water, though.😊😊😊😊 I can be able to share this story I've typed with the rest of the world.😆😆😆😆 By the way, I was cleaning up my own puke in my bedroom.😆😆😆😇😇😇😇