jsacfjsabJCFKabjSBcavBSKjbvjdxbvbddshsnbf!

The feelings won't go away. The feelings of disgust, shame, guilt, embarrassment, discomfort, fear, sadness, depression, curiosity, anger, etc. I don't know what to do with myself.

I tried to take this day as a new day, totally separate from yesterday and I think I did better, but not good enough. I can always do better. Woke up this morning scared to look in the mirror and feel my body. I started crying in my bed because I just feel so overwhelmed and don't know what to do. This is such hard work and it's only the beginning. That's what scares me most. I still managed to have my breakfast because I know I had to. I talked to my friend Dina for awhile afterwards and it was really helpful. It helps me a lot to talk to her and get things out because she actually listens and understands where I'm coming from exactly. It makes me feel like I'm not alone and that I'm not a crazy person thinking all of these thoughts. We both tried to help each other out by talking things out, and talking about our issues and fears and where we're at right now and what we can do next. I love talking to her. I haven't seen her in a year which is crazy, but I'm so happy that we kept this relationship going, she's helped me through so much. She might be making a trip up here next weekend to see me, and I would love to see her. So we'll see. But anyway, then I had to go to therapy for 11 and I brought my snack along and was just not feeling good about it. I hate bringing things with me. ED was loud and I didn't finish the whole thing, it's my bad habit and there's something about it that I just can't let go of. Then I talked to my therapist and told her about the past week and what's been going on, and I like her a lot. I also told her about my slip ups yesterday and how ED totally took control of me and told me I could restrict because I was "safe." She said all I can do id focus on doing the right thing from now on and not dwelling on the past, because everyone makes mistakes. And I guess she's right. I guess recovery isn't a straight line, it has lots of curves and bumps along the way; if it was a straight line no one would need treatment and everyone would already be recovered no problem, but that's just not the reality of things. I guess I need to remind myself of that. After talking to her I felt really guilty about not finishing my snack. I left it in the car, and I was tempted to do the right thing and finish it when I got back in the car. You have no idea how loud ED was. He told me everything from you'll be fat if you finish that to you're out of control and should be ashamed that you're even thinking of not listening to me. And then of course there was Ms. Perfectionist in my other ear screaming about how I wasn't aloud to have it because it wasn't at one of my regular "times" for meals and snacks. Then there was recovery telling me that it would be the right thing to do, and that it will only get me closer to the finish line. For some reason, at that moment I was just so pissed at ED for yesterday and how he was talking to me, so I went to my car, got in, looked at my snack debating what to do, then said a big FUCK YOU to ED and ate it. I left some of it but not much, but at least I went back and finished most of it. I felt empowered. But then the guilt came in. But I guess it should be seen as good guilt, I was guilty because I did the right thing. But ED made me feel so bad. So did Ms. Perfectionist. But at least I had someone cheering for me in my other ear. Then I was thinking on the way home about how we talked about doing "the next right thing." I thought about how I screwed up yesterday and I got so nervous that I fucked myself up and that I lost weight from it. I weighed myself and was down a little, but then came home and weighed myself again and it was what it was yesterday. But I came home rushing through the door and it was lunchtime. I was late and Ms. Perfectionist was so fucking loud. So was ED. Because I was thinking the whole way home about how I needed to make myself finish ALL of my lunch, and have a different calorie juice because of how I cut stuff out yesterday. This was a big step. I feel like I shoved everything down my throat so I didn't have to think about it, but in the end I did it. I felt so shitty afterwards, but I did it. I tried to stay busy afterwards so I wouldn't have to think about it but before I knew it it was time for snack. It's always hard for me because I feel really full after this snack, and I hate the feeling. That's the moment when I get depressed and body check and see my gross disgusting re-feeding belly staring back at me. But then I just tried to pull myself out of it and tell myself that it won't be forever. That's what keeps me going. Now here I am just finishing dinner and I feel SO BLOATED. It's indescribable. I want to cry because of my distended stomach, but I'm trying to not think about it. And for the most part I finished my dinner, but I think I ate it way too fast because I didn't want Dad or Denise to see me. I thought they were going to make me eat with them tonight but luckily they didn't. We haven't for awhile thank god. Maybe they forgot about it, or realized finally how fucking stupid it is. But the day is almost over, one snack left and that's all. Today was the day I started my increases and I actually forgot about it until I thought back on what I ate. I handled it better than I thought I would which made it a little better to handle. But I have an increase of 8oz juice for my snack and I hate fluids, they make me feel even more bloated. But I need to do it, I just have to. Then I'm having my snack out unfortunately because Denise thinks it would just be a great idea if we do some sort of family bonding shit every weekend. How gay is that? I hate being around them when I feel this way. I'm a total bitch and then it just turns into a mess. So she said she wanted to go see a movie and we're going to a theatre where I won't see anyone which is better I guess. We're seeing The Social Network which I'm pretty sure has been out for a long time but whatever. I guess it won't be as bad as last weekend because I won't have to talk at all; not like I do anyways. The movie starts at 9 which is literally my bed time so I'm going to be exhausted, AND we lose an hour of sleep tonight which blows. But i took a Tylenol PM so hopefully that will knock me out when I get home. But I am not looking forward to it. I'm just annoyed with them because they expect me to be happy all of the time. Well I'm fucking sorry but if you were in my shoes and were forced to gain 10lbs I'm almost positive you wouldn't be happy either. UGH it's so frustrating! But hopefully this goes by fast, we'll see.

I guess the day could've been worse but it could've been better too. I think I made some positive steps today to try to get back on track but that's only causing ED to become ten million times louder than he usually is; which is already pretty damn loud. I'm so body conscious today and I feel myself growing and I can see it too. I'm trying to remember that when I'm in my range I will be NO WHERE near where I used to weigh before all of this. Which I guess is comforting but it doesn't take away the shitload of fear that I have. It doesn't make it any easier. The days are a fucking struggle, and they're only bound to get harder from here on out. I'm having a really hard time with comparing myself to others. I see people struggling and I'm still at the point where I want to kind of be in their shoes. I want to be sick and I just can't get myself out of that mindset. I'm not ready to feel "normal" yet. It's such a competition; a competition between all of our ED's fighting for the top spot for who is the sickest. Yeah, it's pretty pathetic. It's pathetic that I sit around all day looking at myself in the mirror, weighing myself, planning out meals, eating food, and being depressed. This is no life, and I know that rationally, but that doesn't mean I want to change. Part of me wants to because this fucking blows, but part of me doesn't because it's all I know right now. I don't know who I am without it, and it scares me that I will only find that out if I let go of it, and we all know how I feel about the unknown. Scared shitless. I'm just a big huge ball of anxiety and fear and I feel like that will never go away. Like I say all the time I'm so afraid to wake up tomorrow. I'm scared to see what I look like because today was a meal plan increase day, therefore I ate more and therefore I will probably be bigger. And that only leads to depression which leads to listening to ED to numb all of the pain. I'm afraid that I'll start a cycle again and that I won't be able to get out. I'm scared I'm going to gain too much and that I'll never be able to stop. I want to ask my doctor what my weight range is that they expect me to get to but I'm too afraid of the response I'll get in return. I'm afraid it's going to be higher than I think it is. I'm so fucking scared. It's all about weight. ITS ALL I FUCKING CARE ABOUT!!!!!!!!!! The number the number the number. If it's okay-ed by me, then I'll feel better; if it's not, then that will just cause me to lose lose lose until I get to that number. And no one can stop me.