The speaker is caught between two feelings that shouldn't fit together: disgust at themselves for making themselves throw up, and a kind of pride or love for having done it. The poem says both outright, "on one hand" and "on the other," as if the speaker is laying the contradiction on the table without trying to fix it. That honesty is what makes the opening lines hit so hard.
The last two lines change the tone. "I ate, yea i did" sounds almost defiant, a little casual, like a shrug. Then the speaker refuses to say whether they purged afterward. That refusal reads as secrecy and control: the reader is kept out, and the speaker holds the one piece of information that matters. The lowercase, unpolished style makes it feel like a raw, private thought, not a performance. The mood is tense and uneasy, with self-hatred and a hint of guarded pride sitting side by side. The poem doesn't resolve anything, and that lack of resolution is part of what it's showing.