Word Vomit

I see you being happy and okay while I get deeper and deeper in my misery.
I see that nothing has changed in you. You still go out, same friends, same trips, same everything. And you seem really okay, like unaffected, untouched okay.
While I starve for a while then go back to eating to eating more and more till I get sick.
I feel disgusted and pathetic and sometimes I don't feel anything.
It's the very first time that I consider seeking help. I once brought it up to Mom. Who is oblivious to all of what I'm going through. And she said that there's no point. I don't have problems to go to a therapist. That it would be a waste of time and money.
But I never listen to her anyway.
I don't know how do people do it. How can they get out of bed and face the world. How to get dressed and go to work and just focus. How to be.
I want to just be. I want to get over shit and move on. I want to get a passport and go anywhere. I want to get out. I don't want reminders, I don't want to revisit certain places. You contaminate them for me. I just am not brave enough.
And I didn't do anthing for my birthday, except going shopping and baking muffins. No calls. No gifts. Nothing. I just turned 24. No big deal. But I need new friends, maybe. I'm grateful for my work, for keeping me busy. Even working on weekends. Its a distraction.

I don't know