Yeah, yay, fucking relapse. Great. I've been doing well for a few months, but I'm turning around and going back to anorexia. The thing about my eating disorder is that I know exactly the way my brain is working; I know I'm only focusing on food to distract myself from the fact that I'm depressed. I know I'm not invincible. I know starving myself is self destructive and it's stupid and wont solve my problems.
But despite knowing, I just don't care. I want to be a small little thing, I want to lose weight, I want to have orthostatic hypertension, anemia, blah blah blah.
So yesterday I didn't eat until 1:00; I had a mango, 3 eggs, pasta, and some onion, and I purged it. So today I didn't eat until my mom took me to a small restaurant for lunch around 2, and I had two slices of watermelon. We took a long walk and burned off those calories, but when we got home she made me eggs and toast. I had to eat that so she wouldn't think I was up to something. I took a bike ride afterward, hoping to both burn a few calories and that the exercise would speed up my metabolism.
I don't have a scale but I don't need one. Effort will show me my results in the mirror.
Showing posts with label ED. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ED. Show all posts
8.13.2011
1.21.2011
Thighs
So my thighs are getting pretty close to not touching. When I put my knees together, the top of them just brush each other gently. Almost barely.
But they're still touching.
And so, I still hate myself. I can't lose the weight, I'm not good enough. My boyfriend must be repulsed when he sees the jelly covering my bones. He always tells me I'm not fat but I know he's lying. I must be somewhere around 114 or 113 by now. If not, and if I get on the scale and I'm more.... I don't know what will happen.
Since my mom took the scale, the only time I can weigh myself is at my grandparents house. The scale in their bathroom is, and I'm not kidding, called, "THINNER". Every time I look at it, that word at the top screams imperfection. I'm 114 lbs, and yes, I do need to be thinner. My goal is to be 90. I don't know if anyone will like it... I don't know if my boyfriend will like it... I don't know if I'll look beautiful even then. But when I imagine myself getting on the scale and seeing those digits, I just NEED to get there. I don't care if my boyfriend is disgusted with the skeletal frame... I won't be.
But they're still touching.
And so, I still hate myself. I can't lose the weight, I'm not good enough. My boyfriend must be repulsed when he sees the jelly covering my bones. He always tells me I'm not fat but I know he's lying. I must be somewhere around 114 or 113 by now. If not, and if I get on the scale and I'm more.... I don't know what will happen.
Since my mom took the scale, the only time I can weigh myself is at my grandparents house. The scale in their bathroom is, and I'm not kidding, called, "THINNER". Every time I look at it, that word at the top screams imperfection. I'm 114 lbs, and yes, I do need to be thinner. My goal is to be 90. I don't know if anyone will like it... I don't know if my boyfriend will like it... I don't know if I'll look beautiful even then. But when I imagine myself getting on the scale and seeing those digits, I just NEED to get there. I don't care if my boyfriend is disgusted with the skeletal frame... I won't be.
12.23.2010
My Little Freak Out
I already posted this on PrettyAlone, but I thought I'd share it with Blogspot too.
I woke up one day. I looked at myself. I started bawling on the spot. I hated every inch of myself. I HAD to do something... immediately. There was nothing I could do to change the way I looked in five seconds though.
Oh wait... yeah. There is.
I woke up one day. I looked at myself. I started bawling on the spot. I hated every inch of myself. I HAD to do something... immediately. There was nothing I could do to change the way I looked in five seconds though.
Oh wait... yeah. There is.
I held the menacing point of a safety pin in my fingers, and instantly dug into my hip in a perfect figure eight. I don't know what it stood for... either the amount of weight I had gained since my lowest weight... or the infinite pain of anorexia.
I didn't stop at my hips. I scratched my stomach, my thighs, my arms, my wrists... everything that needed to change. I needed to FEEL the change.
And then my hands threw themselves into the air and collided with my jiggling, repulsive figure again and again, hitting and destroying and punishing everything they could.
I screamed. I cried. I collapsed into my bed and drowned in the puddles of tears I made on the sheets. I was not leaving the house that day. I would not do anything but hold myself captive in my own body. I would not shove lard down my throat. I couldn't. I didn't deserve it.
This is not love. This is pain. These are not goals.... these numbers are drugs. This life is not a fairy tale.. it is the bruises on your body, the scars on your wrists, the valleys on your cheeks cut from the rivers of your tears. Is there a point to life if happiness will never be found?
9.29.2010
An ED Specialist?
Hey.
I'm a kid in middle school who's too fat to be happy.
That's the only introduction I have for you.
My day started at 5:00 when I woke up and went down stairs to do an ab work out. I should do that more often... anyway, after that, I showered. I had to use three kinds of conditioners because my hair has been extremely dry lately... maybe it's because of the lack of food. Damn, is that happening to me already? So, I went downstairs to finish the homework I didn't do last night. I ended up driving to school in the back seat of my mom's car while she and my sister screamed at each other over nothing in the front. School was fine, but I was supposed to be on a no carb diet today, and I broke it by having a bite of the bread they were selling in the caf. Actually, I also had a bowl of pasta too when I came home. Whoops. I think tomorrow I'll just eat a few sticks of celery to make up for it. After my mom drove me a half hour to Jew class and dropped me off, I walked in only to realize there actually was none because of some stupid service for the kids. So I called me mom, and she turned around and picked me up. She wanted to go to some house in Hartford where her great great grandpa used to live with his 13 year old wife, but it actually wasn't there anymore. Instead there was a fenced in parking lot. More useless time wasted. On the way home, I asked for laxatives because I haven't been getting the physical results I've been so desperately needing, but she just started screaming at me. She told me she's gonna take me to a "specialist" who helps girls my age with "eating disorders and self image problems". I don't have an eating disorder, and I don't have a self image problem. I'm a middle school girl who's constantly surrounded by girls with the thinnest, most perfect bodies. Aren't all girls my age trying to lose weight? My response to her suggestion was, "Why don't you just take me to an institution so they can cure me and make me eat pizza all day? You'll be happy if I'm fat, right?". She told me I don't need rehab, I just need to "stop this before it takes over your life". To put it plainly, I'd be glad if striving to be thin, exercising, and having good eating habits took over my life. At least then I might actually become beautiful to other people. Is this lady shes taking me to gonna sit me down and make me eat cupcakes every day? I don't need this. I don't have a problem. I have a solution.
I'm a kid in middle school who's too fat to be happy.
That's the only introduction I have for you.
My day started at 5:00 when I woke up and went down stairs to do an ab work out. I should do that more often... anyway, after that, I showered. I had to use three kinds of conditioners because my hair has been extremely dry lately... maybe it's because of the lack of food. Damn, is that happening to me already? So, I went downstairs to finish the homework I didn't do last night. I ended up driving to school in the back seat of my mom's car while she and my sister screamed at each other over nothing in the front. School was fine, but I was supposed to be on a no carb diet today, and I broke it by having a bite of the bread they were selling in the caf. Actually, I also had a bowl of pasta too when I came home. Whoops. I think tomorrow I'll just eat a few sticks of celery to make up for it. After my mom drove me a half hour to Jew class and dropped me off, I walked in only to realize there actually was none because of some stupid service for the kids. So I called me mom, and she turned around and picked me up. She wanted to go to some house in Hartford where her great great grandpa used to live with his 13 year old wife, but it actually wasn't there anymore. Instead there was a fenced in parking lot. More useless time wasted. On the way home, I asked for laxatives because I haven't been getting the physical results I've been so desperately needing, but she just started screaming at me. She told me she's gonna take me to a "specialist" who helps girls my age with "eating disorders and self image problems". I don't have an eating disorder, and I don't have a self image problem. I'm a middle school girl who's constantly surrounded by girls with the thinnest, most perfect bodies. Aren't all girls my age trying to lose weight? My response to her suggestion was, "Why don't you just take me to an institution so they can cure me and make me eat pizza all day? You'll be happy if I'm fat, right?". She told me I don't need rehab, I just need to "stop this before it takes over your life". To put it plainly, I'd be glad if striving to be thin, exercising, and having good eating habits took over my life. At least then I might actually become beautiful to other people. Is this lady shes taking me to gonna sit me down and make me eat cupcakes every day? I don't need this. I don't have a problem. I have a solution.
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