"I am fucking trying, alright?!" It's the first time the edge of a bark leaks into her voice this conversation, and she grits her teeth against it, letting her teeth catch her own tongue and letting the taste of iron knock her back to her senses.

She's half a mind to argue that wasn't even her point about Darcy, but she decides better of it and just takes a moment to breathe, to try and focus on the quiet before she says anything else.

"...I went cold-turkey and starved myself to skin and bones for a year. Would've been dead, if I'd got to stay at home." Should've been dead, she thinks but doesn't say. "But here? I was always gonna snap eventually. And I really didn't know if I'd come back from it when I did. And we're trying new things. To fix this. But if they don't work—"

Then she's back to being a lost cause, who'll snap so far one day she doesn't come back down.