I can't stand myself anymore. I can't stand looking in the mirror and seeing what I see.

The fat is overflowing my body and its becoming all of who I am.

I will now be known as the fat girl that everyone talks about, not the deathly skinny girl that everyone talks about. As I walked outside on the streets today I knew people were staring; staring at how enormously big I am. It's not normal. Thighs that are almost touching, flabby arms, a big fucking pregnant stomach; it's all too much. I tried to cover it up with big clothes, but I doubt it hid anything. I made sure I worse all black, because it is known that black slims your figure, but it probably only made me look bigger. None of those tricks work for me, nothing can hide all of this disgust. All I wanted to do was run back to the hotel and hide in my room, but ED told me that I NEEDED to keep walking. I needed to walk as fast as I could to try to burn off some of this shit all over my body, but I doubt it even made any difference. As we were walking around everywhere I couldn't help but focus on everyone else. It seemed like everyone around me was a model and stick thin. I wanted to escape and run away. I was ashamed and jealous to be around all of those beautiful thin girls. It's not fair. That's all I want. It's a slap in the face to be surrounded by something that I want so bad but I can't have. It's not fair at all. I don't know where to go from here. How am I supposed to be strong and keep pushing when part of me doesn't even want to? How am I supposed to just tell myself that ED is a liar when he sounds so convincing and real? How am I supposed to believe people when they say that I won't get fat when I gain more weight when I'm already fat now? How am I supposed to be optimistic about a future without ED when I don't even see something like that ever being possible? There are so many questions that I keep continually asking myself but it's only getting me more and more confused. I shouldn't be confused. I should WANT to live a life free of ED. I should want to be healthy and not look like a dead girl walking. I should want to be able to eat like a normal person, and be able to enjoy it. I should want to be able to make my way back into the world to create a future for myself. I should want to be happy and positive. I should want all of these things, but for some reason all I am is afraid of them. I still want to be known as the girl who has anorexia. I feel like if I'm not known for that then I a nobody. It's all I am now, so how can I just drop all of that and leave it behind and move on? I feel like I have been like this for so long and it has been engraved in my soul. It feels so right, so perfect. Fighting against ED just doesn't seem right. It makes me feel guilty, it makes me feel weak, like I'm doing the wrong thing. I should feel good about following my meal plan, and listening to my doctor, and staying out of treatment, but ED makes me feel differently. He makes me feel like I am continually failing at life. He tells me that if I can't succeed at this then I will never succeed at anything. He tells me this is all I've got, and at this point I feel like he's right.

Today has been a depressing drag.

I was so anxious before going to bed last night after having my snack because all I wanted to do was exercise. ED was so loud. He has a microphone to my ear basically blowing my eardrums out. He told me that if I didn't I would wake up and regret it. He kept putting images in my head of what I would look like, and how I wouldn't be able to make it go away. He put fear in my mind. But recovery was right there next to him reassuring me that I would be okay. She told me that I should at least give it a try for the night, and if I wake up and feel terrible then I can always go back to it the next day. She was right, but I always have this fear that once I stop I won't be able to go back. That's what ED tells me so he can keep me under his grasp. Recovery reminded me that I needed to stop exercising this week because I didn't get a meal plan increase, and if I didn't stop then I would probably end up losing weight. She reminded me that the goal is for me to gain more weight, even though I don't want to, but I have no way of getting out of it. By losing weight, I am only making it harder for myself. I will only have to keep dragging myself farther and farther up this tall steep mountain even longer. I know that losing weight isn't the answer and it won't solve any problems but that's all ED tells me. He tells me that I will feel on top of the world if I weigh just one pound less than I do now, and that I won't be as miserable, and that I won't hate myself as much. It's hard to not believe him. All I want to do is lose and lose and lose until I'm basically invisible. I feel that's all that can make me happy right now or ever. I feel broken because I want what I can't have.
I don't know what to do from here. 

Meals the past few days have been so hard. I have found myself sitting, staring at the food in front of me actually debating whether or not to have it or not. I have had no interest, All I have is fear. I look at it and nightmares run through my mind about what the stuff sitting in front of me could possibly do. I know for a fact it won't make me happy, it will make me miserable. As I put each bite in my mouth the words "I hate myself" replay over and over and over again. If this is so painful for me then why do I keep putting myself through this? Why am I continuing to do something that makes me miserable day in and day out? I am in all reality the one in control, and I can do whatever I want but for some reason I just can't give in. I don't know if it's the real Trine/good patient/perfectionist part of me coming out, but I just can't say fuck it I give up. I wonder if Mom has to do with that. Or even God. I believe that she must be here with me, literally standing behind me pushing me forward at this point, because I know I wouldn't be able to do it on my own. I don't want to disappoint her, I'm supposed to make her proud. I'm supposed to graduate college and have a family and be happy. I can't let her down, but this disease makes me so selfish, and it only makes me think about myself and my feelings. I know I am hurting so many people through all if this shit but that still isn't enough for me to change. It makes me feel so guilty and terrible, but it still doesn't change anything. I wonder if anything will ever effect me. I feel like a zombie. I feel like I'll never be able to break out of this trance and live my life. I'm losing fucking hope and I don't know what to do about it, I'm barely hanging on, but I'm trying to. It's so hard and every second is a struggle and I want to give up but I'm trying to do what everyone tells me is the right thing, and the thing that I won't regret. I want to give in so badly. More than words can explain, but I just can't. Not all the way. 

Tonight's the last night we're here, thank God.

I don't know how much longer I would be able to stay in this tiny room without a TV being surrounded by unfamiliar things. I've been so uncomfortable and it's making everything harder. I hope tomorrow goes by fast so I can get the fuck out of here, but I'm worried that I will only go back to my bad habits that I had at home when I get there. It will be so much easier to give into ED, and I honestly don't know how I'm going to find the strength to fight him. I've been away from the scale all weekend and it's made me really anxious. All I can think about is the stupid fucking number and if it is up or down or the same. Part of me is afraid to step on the scale and see the number being lower, because I don't know what I would do at that point. And then of course I would freak out if it was higher, but it would reassure me that because of it my appointment would go okay. I'm just really worried about my appointment already and it's not even Monday yet. What happens if I lose? What will my excuse be this time? What happens if I stay the same? Will I get a meal plan increase? So many fucking questions that I need answers for, but it's impossible to get any. It's driving me crazy. I can't stop thinking about the future today and all of the what ifs. I'm so worried about gaining weight and how much I have left. My doctor keeps giving me mixed signals and it's making me really anxious. I;m trying to not freak out and just accept that the weight she wants me is where I should be, and it's the right place for me, but all I have is that special number flashing in my head. I can only be that number and nothing else. I will refuse to be anything else. After all they can't MAKE me do anything I don't want to. If I'm at a stable weight then that should be enough, and for me that will be enough. That's all. I won't be able to deal with anything else. I can't even deal with how I am right now. Fuck, I can't even imagine how I'll feel in a few weeks. I'm so scared, I don't want to go through this anymore. I'm trying to just take it day by day and not worry about what hasn't happened yet but it's impossible at this point. I'm trying to just let go and trust my team and that whatever they're choosing to make me do is something that I'm doing for a reason, but it's so hard. It's so hard when I have ED screaming at me constantly. He makes everything so believable and so real. It's like I'm prone to listening to him now no matter what crazy bullshit he says to me. He has me brainwashed. You can't even imagine all the shit he's saying to me right now. The urge to exercise is so high right now, but I'm going to not do it tonight and see what I weigh when I get home tomorrow. Not like that should predict what I do and don't do but it will make a big difference for me. I need to break the habit again at some point, so I really should keep it up. I will only be making it so much harder for myself in the long run, and even if it hasn't caught up to me yet, it will eventually I'm sure, it always does. I just want the night to be over. But I have fucking snack soon and I want to cry. I feel like I've eaten way too much. I so badly want to add up my calories but I'm too depressed to. I'm too scared to really see how fat and disgusting I am. I'm a fucking disgrace. I'm ashamed to even be alive. I'm a worthless piece of shit and nothing more than that. I'm sick of trying to make things better when all they're doing is getting worse. My hope is fading, and I don't know what I'm going to do when it's completely gone, but I feel like that day is coming soon.

These knives are calling my name.



I have been a psycho today.

I'm a fucking mess. I don't know what to do with myself.

There is so much beauty right in front of my eyes in the world around me,
but my soul is filled with nothing but black.
ED has consumed my soul and I don't feel like I'm ever getting it back.

Especially after today. He's breaking me down more and more with every breathe I take.

That is if I'm even breathing at all; I feel like I'm being suffocated.

Suffocated from all of this hate and pain and hurt from within.

I try to tell myself, "Just hold on, keep fighting,
it will all be worth it, and this pain is only temporary."

But part of me doesn't believe it. I don't think that things will ever get better. I don't feel that it is possible that I can live a life completely free of weight and eating issues and calories and exercise obsession and ED.

I must be crazy for thinking that ED would just let me go like that. Fuck no, he's holding on for dear life, he's holding on with the tightest grip he possibly can. I don't know how to convince him to just let go.

I'm currently in Newport, RI and thought it would be better than home,
but oh was I wrong.

I want nothing to do with this place, I want nothing to do with anyone.

I want to be in my own house, doing what I always do, and nothing other than that.

I thought it would be good to get away, to get  away from what could have been a triggering environment, but it seems like everything has just followed me, and even possibly made more of an impact on me. It has hit me all at once, and I don't know how to respond. It was a quiet morning at home. Had my breakfast, got my food together, showered, watched the royal wedding stuff, sat in my room, and then hit the road about 1. Ever since last night I have felt terrible. I mean physically. I have felt so weird that it's scaring me. I feel like I've been hit by a bus and I can't even get up. I feel like a bomb has exploded in my stomach and has ripped out my insides. I was hoping it would go away with some meds but nothing has changed, it's only gotten worse. I feel so weak, and I feel so dizzy and just blah, but it's no big deal. Nothing could ever possibly happen to me, I'm not nearly sick enough for anything to happen. I haven't been taking my normal meds and I'm wondering if that had anything to do with it, because I am sooooo depressed today but I'm not sure. I didn't think meds really actually helped, but maybe seeing how I feel now they actually do. But that sucks because i don't even have any left so I won't be able to take them until the middle of next week. Looks like I'm gonna be really depressed. Awesome. But on the ride up I had my lunch and my stupid Boost but kind of nit picked at it and didn't have everything. ED was screaming at me telling me that I didn't need it all and I listened. Stupid fucking me. I was going to not finish like half of my Boost but then I thought about my appointment and how I would probably regret it so I just quickly chugged it and that was that. I felt pretty shitty, but I got over it for the most part. It didn't take long to get here and we only had to wait a little bit for our room to open and then we unpacked all of our stuff. By the time I was settled it was time for fucking snack. I was so depressed because I still wasn't feeling well, and snack was the last thing that I wanted. Dad and Denise ended up going to the hot tub and I stayed in my room to finish my snack. Then all of a sudden a huge wave of emotion hit me out of no where and I started balling. And I mean really balling. I don't remember the last time I really cried but this was the next. An enormous amount of guilt and shame hit me in the face and slapped me over and over again. I got up and looked at my body in the mirror and it hit me that I officially don't look anorexic anymore. I look like a fat fuck. A huge disgusting pig. I didn't think it was possible to look fat and only weigh 100lbs but oh boy was I wrong. I have never looked so big in my life. There is no muscle, no tone, no bones, just fat. PURE FAT. Rolls and rolls and rolls. ED began screaming louder than he has in awhile. Screaming and screaming and screaming terrible things. Telling me how I should just kill myself because I shouldn't want to live looking like this. I considered it. I seriously wanted nothing to do with life after seeing myself in that mirror. I tried to reassure myself by saying maybe it was just that mirror and maybe I didn't really look that way, so I went to another one, but nope, I saw the same fat body in the mirror. My knees buckled below me and I feel to the ground. My hands surrounding my face trying to cage the tears in that were coming out so fast. I couldn't control my breathing, and i couldn't control my body. I started shaking and screaming and wailing. People next door must have thought I was dying or something, and i wish I was. There I sat, like a fucking fat loser, looking in the mirror crying because of what I saw. It scared me. I was scared of the person who was staring back at me. I was scared that she was something that I thought I would never be, and now that fear has become reality. All I wanted to do was exercise. Over and power and over and over. I started to, but then I stopped. I reminded myself that I couldn't afford to because i didn't have an increase this week, and I tried to calm myself down and breathe. But then seconds later I would start balling again uncontrollably and i would start to exercise. Then the same cycle happened. I had sudden urges to cut. I wanted to cut all of the fat all of my body and cut out all of the pain from underneath my skin. Let it all pour out onto the floor right in front of me. I went into the kitchen and found a knife. I put it to my wrist but then remembered that everyone would see that I did it if it was there, so i went down to my ankle and swiped away. The pain felt good, but I didn't let it continue. I stopped myself. I didn't even see any red, but I wanted to. I threw myself on the couch and began balling again. I looked at the clock and it was almost time to fill my fat stomach with useless food. Dad and Denise walked through the door and I quickly tried ti wipe away all of my tears so they wouldn't see my pain. But from the red on my face they knew something was wrong. I couldn't seem to get out how i was really feeling. They just wouldn't understand. I told Denise how I feel worthless because i don't look anorexic anymore. This made her sad, because she says I'm so much more than this, but i don't think so.. This is ALL I am. I cried and cried and cried and then forced myself to get up and get dinner. I had no way of getting out of it anyway. I made it and sat down. There it sat, in front of me and I just stared. I wanted nothing to do with it, and for the first time in a while i was really debating whether to actually have it or not. I was afraid of it and what it would do to me if I had it. All I could think about was exercise and how I won't be able to do it as much or even at all when I'm here. That scared me and made me not even want to eat it. I was talking to one of my friends from treatment and she pushed me to do the right thing. I'm thankful for her. If it weren't for her I would still be looking at my dinner not having touched it at all. Thinking back on it I feel extremely guilty. I am freaking out inside because all I'm picturing is that food all building up in my stomach only to form more of a fat gut that I don't need. I'm freaking out inside, but I can't let it show on the outside. I can't disappoint them with my pain. I can't let them down, I will ruin everything. Not like I haven't already.

ED is scaring me. More than he has in awhile.

He's manipulating me into listening to him, over and over again.

He's got the best of me and i don't know how to get it back. He's stripping me of all of my strength more and more every day and I'm becoming so weak. I have turned back into this vulnerable girl who is persuaded into doing what everyone else wants even though it may not be the right thing. I feel so bad for not doing what I should, but i feel so bad when I do do what I need to. I yell at myself when i don't listen to ED, because he makes me yell at myself. He makes me hate myself more than I ever thought I could. Everyone tells me how much beauty I own both inside and out, but all that he tells me is how much beauty I don't have, and how i am basically a nobody. A fat nobody. The more he says it, the more i believe it. No matter how many people say the opposite, ED is always the one I believe. I don't know what to do. I'm so scared to go to sleep tonight and not have exercised. I'm afraid of what that will do. I'm afraid that I'll wake up a beached whale and it won't be a nightmare, it will be reality. Recovery tells me that it will be okay, but ED tells me that it would be a catastrophe. ED puts all these images in my head and they haunt me. I'm afraid i won't be able to sleep. I'll be too worried. But I know what the right thing to do would be. I didn't get a meal plan increase this week, and if I keep exercising I will lose weight and then I will have to get one next week. I NEED to break this habit again. I can't let it control me. Recovery tells me that I should just try to not exercise tonight, and if i really feel I need to tomorrow then I can if I want, exercise will always be there. Part of me thinks I should just try it and see how I am when I wake up tomorrow, but I'm so scared. I'm so scared that I will have made a mistake by not burning off those extra calories. I am afraid that I for sure will gain weight. But then recovery tells me that I NEED to gain weight. I hate this fact but it is true, and it will never go away. The more i try to fight it the harder it will be to face. I need to try to fight ED, but I'm too scared to right now. I guess i will try to not exercise tonight, and see how I will feel tomorrow. but I don't know if I can do it. ED tells me that by not listening to him and fighting the urge to exercise, I am seen as weak and worthless, and then that makes me fel even worse about myself. I just want to be a good anorexic, and I can only be that way if I listen to what ED tells me to do. But I can't. I will end up back in treatment if I do. I need to just try to hold on to the recovery part of me, even if there is barely anything there. Snack is soon and I'm scared to death. This would usually be the time that I go up to my room and do my usual rountine, but now it's a lot more risky. I'm too afraid to get caught, but I'm so anxious just sitting here trying to fight off the urge. But I NEED to. I need to be uncomfortable for this night and I need to deal with it. But i don't want to. AH :( Fuck ED and fuck recovery. Fuck everything right now. I just want to go home. I just want to exercise. I just want to stop eating. I just want to stop all of this madness, but the stronger and more I want it to go away, the more it surrounds me. I can never catch a break. I will always be a prisoner of ED, some way some how.



Those words keep replaying over and over in my head.

ED tells me that if I am all of these things then I am ALMOST perfect, but not quite because there is always something that could be better,
or something that needs to be worked on.

Looking back on my life, I was never really any of these things, and it's all I wanted to be.

I wanted to have that light, dancer body, flying through the wind because it's so light;

not a fat muscular body like a heavy rock sitting in the dirt.

I've always had fantasies of that body, and ED makes me believe that if I listen to him, I will get what I want, but if I don't listen to him,
then I will have no chance at getting that body.

I feel like everyone else around me had that body, and I would sit there and stare with a jealous look in my eye, and ED in my ear telling me that I need to be like that. Actually no, that I need to be BETTER than that. ED loves competition. Whenever there is a marathon in town he is the first one at the starting line waiting for the bell to be rung. He never wants to miss out on any opportunity. If he did it would be a catastrophe.

The more and more I go through recovery, or as I "try" to go through recovery, it seems that the image that I want is becoming erased even more and more. I want what my doctor's think isn't healthy, but how is it unhealthy when other people are allowed to be that way? If they can do it, so can I. I feel my dream of having the perfect body, or something close to it is being ripped away from me. The only thing that I feel will make me happy, is being forced away from me. Oh how I want it so badly. I've never been "that girl" who stands out in a good way with her body. I've always stood out by being the strongest or the most muscular. That's not what I want; I don't want to be labeled as a man. I feel like now they are making me get back to that point. That point where I was miserable. Clearly I wasn't happy, because if I was, I wouldn't be living a life like this right now! I'm afraid my dream is being taken away. My team just doesn't get it. They don't get that I NEED to have that body. That if I don't I will hate myself and I will always want to be better. I will hate myself if I'm not in "that range." or if I look like I weigh a lot. For me, ya the number is pretty fucking important and makes a difference but it's more about how I look physically. Ya I could be 100lbs but I could look like I am 130lbs on the outside. It's all about how I am perceived through the eyes of others, and my own when I look at the reflection in the mirror. I may not have gained weight one day, but if I feel like I look like I did, then I'm miserable and the number doesn't matter as much. I honestly wish none of this mattered so much. I wish I could just have my one wish granted to have the ideal perfect body that I want. If that were the case I would be in a great place right now, but of course I can't get the one thing I want; instead I have to spend my days and nights living continuously through this hell. 

Today has been a busy day like always because it's my usual appointment day.

Woke up at the fucking crack of dawn and looked and felt like shit.

I was already anxious about my appointments and they were hours away.

I had to eat breakfast earlier today and it made me anxious and I had it in .2 seconds so I felt like shit afterwards. Dumb fuck. But then I had to go see my psychiatrist at 8:30, bright and early. She was actually waiting for us this time and it is usually the other time around so we were in and out really quick. She upped one of my meds to help with my energy and mood, but I don't believe in meds. I don't even know if they're helping me anymore, I feel like I'm too fucked up for anything to help me. Ultimately nothing can really beat ED. I haven't been taking my meds the past few days anyway because I ran out and forgot to get refills before the weekend and going away. Oops my b. But anyway that appointment was pretty fucking a waste of time, but at one point my Dad told her about the other day and how he caught me singing downstairs. I don't know if I said anything on here, but I don't know where it came from, I just started singing one morning while doing the dishes and I didn't think anyone heard me, and then he came down and asked if that was me singing, well fucking duh who else would it be? And I told him that ya I have random spurts of energy like that and he was so happy and gave me a huge hug and told me that was great. As soon as that happened ED came to visit and completely changed my mood. ED told me that since Dad heard me singing, he thinks I'm all better now and not sick anymore. After that point, I went back into my depressed normal state. ED took away any happiness or "okay-ness" that I had in my body. That stuff isn't allowed, not on his turf. But my dad brought it up in the meeting and said how he was happy and then I interrupted and said that ED got really loud and told me it was a bad thing. My Dad never gets why I wouldn't want to be seen as "normal" but I don't think he'll ever get it. But anyway after that appointment we had waaayy too much time to kill. We drove off to our usual stop, Walmart to pick up all of our goods that we usually get. I was getting so anxious because I was worried that I wouldn't have my snack at the same time, and that if I ate earlier then my weight wouldn't be the same and then I wouldn't get away with anything and blah blah blah. So I walked approximately 1mph in the store just to drag out time. I walked up and down the aisles just looking at every single thing a million times. People thought I was nuts, but I didn't care. I had to go get my fucking nasty gross ass Boost which is way too fucking expensive can I mention! Fucking 8 bucks for 6 bottles. Fuck my life, my money is going down the shitter. And I didn't know if I should have bought 2 6 packs because I didn't know what my increase would be this week, but I bought 2 any way. I really didn't want to. I could have easily gotten away with it saying that I didn't know what my exact increase was so I didn't even think of buying another one, but I know I'd just screw myself over if I did that. But I stole every single coupon off every case because that shit adds up and is expensive, so I'll be saving a little money the next few times I guess which is a plus, but still, I don't even want to have to buy that shit. But I got all of my other stuff too, and then after almost an hour Dad and I were checking out, and it was earlier than we usually leave and I was getting all anxious about snack again. I sat in the seat eating it as slow as I could. I saved my juice and my smoothie until right before I walked in the door to the hospital and then I was on my way up hoping everything would be alright. I hadn't really had  a good feeling all morning. I have been so depressed today, and I think it's partly because I haven't taken my meds, so I guess maybe they do make a difference.. but anyway I felt like a robot and just sat there anxiously waiting for my name to be called. Part of me was anxious, but the other part of me was in the "fuck it" mindset. At that point I just didn't really care what happened. I went in and did the usually vitals and weight and then sat in the room for what seemed like forever for Dr. Gupta. As I was sitting in there something hit me. A severe feeling of sadness and pain hit me with a slap across the face. Before I knew it I was balling, all my myself in the waiting room. I feel like everything was caving in on me, I feel like everything was all of a sudden hitting me all at once. My mind was racing and spinning in circles with weight and money and food and a million other things and the only thing that resulted from them were tears. I wanted her to see the pain that I'm in, and see that this isn't easy for me. I wanted her to see that even though I haven't lost that much weight in the past few weeks dramatically, that doesn't mean I'm okay. I tried to wipe the tears away before she made her entrance but she knew something was wrong. She told me to tell her what was going on and I just went on and on about my worries. I didn't end up telling her that I couldn't gain weight anymore because like I said I'm too much of a pussy but I told her how I'm just so overwhelmed with it and I'm just so depressed. We talked about the money issues too and suggested that I fill out some form that could help with payments, and also that she could start seeing me every other week for normal visits, and the others would just be weight checks, so that would save me money as far as co-pays and that was really thoughtful of her. I'm hoping that will help. She also told me that by the middle of May maybe I could start looking into getting a job since I'll be at a more stable weight, so I guess that could be a good thing. But I don't want to be at a stable weight, I want to be less or stay where I am, but that's impossible at this point. She told me how I only gained very little and basically stayed the same. I was happy to hear that I didn't lose, but angry that I didn't at the same time. She reassured me by telling me that I'm working hard and that I need to just relax and breathe, because there is no rush with any of this. And she is right actually. Maybe I just need to focus on one day at a time and that's all. I need to cut the shit with all of the jumping to the future crap, it's only making matters worse, but it;s tell million times harder than you think. Anyway, after that I headed up to Julie and was pretty ,much dreading it. I didn't even want to walk into her office. Part of me already knew what the increase would be, but I just didn't want to hear it. I kept the tears in my eyes, and told her about how stressed I am. I told her that for the past week I have managed to have my Boost, but because of it I cut out other things from my meal plan, which wasn't the reality. I was having my Boost yes, but I have been listening to ED in other ways. Other ways that I wish I haven't been. But I haven't told anyone about that, everyone thinks I only restrict when I'm having a hard time. SO I was nervous to see what she was going to say, but she said that I actually didn't lose weight and I wasn't followiung my meal plan so then that meant she didn't need to increase it this week, and that I would just need to really try to follow it more than this past week. I couldn't believe it. I was not expecting walking out of that appointment with no updated meal plan. I was so happy but yet so worried at the next second. She asked me if I got the Boost Plus and I lied and said yes. I mean it shouldn't really matter anyway. It's just more calories than I'm having right now, and clearly it didn't make a difference, but I still feel guilty for lying. But then I instantly got worried about this upcoming week. At first I was so happy to not have an increase, but then I got worried because I figure that if I do the same exact thing I have been doing this week, it will either catch up to me and i'll lose, or I'll stay the same and they'll be suspicious. I really need to stop doing what I've been doing because it's only making matters worse but I just can't stop. It's something I need to do. It keeps me moving, and helps me breathe a little bit. But I know I won't be able to stop it, the thoughts of even possible stopping makes me cringe. It makes me so afraid and I envision fat appearing and growing all over my body, and I just can't let that happen right now. So I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess I'll see what happens the next few days and I'll take it from there. I know what I should do, but i know I just can't do that. ED's way t powerful right now. But I didn't listen to him this afternoon when he was telling me that since I "passed" my appointment I didn't have to have my Boost, and I'm not going to lie, going into it I was no way going to have it, but then I thought about next weeks appointment and how this one mistake could make everything ten times worse and that I would probably regret it, so I just had it. Or actually had half, but at least it was more than I was going to have. I did bad with the other part of my lunch, just nit picking at it and stuff but I did okay for the most part I guess. I just feel so bad about my body today. I haven't had the chance to look at it too much, but the times that I have, I have been extremely depressed about it. That made me listen to ED, and I just felt like I had no choice, he was now the one in control and what he says, goes.

Tomorrow starts the weekend away at Newport.

Part of me wants to go away but part of me doesn't because I just want to be alone.

I wish I could go somewhere myself and not with Dad and Denise.

I just get so annoyed being around happy people. I feel like they're trying to make me normal when I don't want to be. I'm going to be miserable, I know it. But hopefully it won't take away from their vacation, because I hate ruining things like this for them. I don't want to bring them down and pull them into my trance of depression, but sometimes its hard not to be drawn in after being around me for so long.

I don't really feel like leaving home and going somewhere unfamiliar.

It's too uncomfortable. I don't want to have to pack all of my food and clothes.
It's too stressful.

I just want to stay in my normal borning routine because it's what I'm used to,
and that's how I like it.

At the beginning of the week this was something that was helping me to get through the week but now that it's here, I don't even see it as a big deal or anything special. Part of me wishes that I said I just wanted to stay home by myself. Because at this point that's what I would rather do. But I can't disappoint them, I don't want to make them mad. I just need to pretend so they won't be mad. But there's only so much I can hide from them. I wear my emotions on my sleeve for the most part.

I don't know, I'm just not looking forward to anything.

There is nothing there to look forward to.

All I am thinking about that is in the future is my appointments next week.

That's all I ever fucking think about. I hate it. It takes over my thinking.

But luckily next week I will only be going to get weighed and I won't be seeing my doctor, so maybe it will go alright unless I lose tons of weight, but i doublt I will, and then I have to see my nutritionist which eh, I wish I told her I just wanted to do every other week but once again I wanted to look like the perfect patient and do whatever she thought would be better versus what I really wanted. AHHHH just hate how I'm already thinking about it! Okay, I need to just focus on one day at a time, and I just need to do what I'm capable if, and then whatever happens happens. If only I could really think that way. Meeeeeh.

I just feel like total shit today. Not only body wise but about everything. My future, my friends, my family, everything. I feel like everything is non-existant now. I feel like it's only me and ED and that's the only way it will be for thr rest of my life. How depressing yet comforting at the same time. Blehh.

Snack is fucking soon which is fucking dumb.

I don't need it. I already ate way more than I needed to so I shouldn't have it.

If I do, I'll still probably listen to ED anyway. But FUCK I can't. I shouldn't. But ED is just too strong right now. He's too powerful and I can't stand up to him. Looks like I'll end up being a fuck up again just like every other day. Nothing new. But whatever. I need to start getting all of my food and shit together for tomorrow. I don't even want to fucking go. I don't want to fucking do anything. All I want to do is lose weight, and unfortunately that is the ONLY thing that I can't do. I just want my wish to come true already. 

The sun is shining, but in my world it is dark.

The birds are chirping, but here they speak of nothing.

My world is full of fear and terror, not happiness.

I try to mask my feelings and make it seem as if I were someone else,

but my emotions are too hard to hide, they are too strong to surpass.

Today was beautiful. Beyond beautiful.

Dad had the windows open and the shades drawn as he was hoping it would wake me up,

but it didn't. It seemed like just another ordinary day in my world, although maybe not as bad as some others. I kept daydreaming of how I want to just escape to a different place; some sort of paradise where I wouldn't be bothered, and everything would be perfect. I wish I could just be there in the snap of a finger.

I wish all my worries could be taken away,
so I could just live a little and take a breathe of fresh air.

But ED holds me back from ever thinking that that will ever be possible. He will always have a tight grip on me where relaxation isn't even seen or heard of. Constant work, constant struggle, constant pain.

He doesn't care, no one cares. I don't even seem to care anymore. I'm used to this hell, it has become my home.

Today was pretty busy actually. I was out most of the day and it was good to not have to sit on my ass all day eating shitty food that I don't need but anyway. I had a hair appointment this morning and I was really anxious yet excited about it. I made sure I worse something to somewhat cover me so no one could see my fat, but I made sure my bones could easily be seen with any slight movement. I walked in, sat down and it was awkward because we both didn't know what to say. I knew she hadn't seen me in awhile and I had so many thoughts going through my mind.."Does she think I look bigger? Can she see all of my fat? Is she going to comment?" Over and over and over. That's all I heard the entire time I was sitting in that damn chair. I tried to distract with magazines so she wouldn't ask me anything but that didn't work. But of course I made sure I read Shape Magazine. Ya know, making sure I read all that fitness, how to lose 10 lbs in a week, 1,600 calorie meal plan shit. It's just so addicting. I can't help but read it. But anyway, she asked me what was new and I awkwardly said nothing much. I mean really not much is new that she needs to know about, and I don;t even know if she knows whats going on. I mean probably because the whole fucking world knows but that's besides the point. Then she just started doing my hair and I could relax a little and just read. I was getting really anxious because I knew my lunch was going to be late, and Mrs. Perfectionist was talking my ear off but I tried to not worry too much about it. I tried to just take in the moment of being pampered by someone and doing some self care for myself because I never get to do it. But then I got really embarrassed because since I've been starving myself my hair has gotten really thin and it constantly falls out, so when she was combing it, there was SO much hair that was on her comb. I looked in the mirror and watched as her confused face kept combing. She looked disgusted, and I was officially so embarrassed and ashamed. She then said to me "Does your hair always fall out when you comb it?" I awkwardly said yes, and then she didn't say anything else. It was SO awkward ah. But after that it was alright. She just kept doing her thing and made my hair look good. She made it really blond for summer and I guess I like it. Or maybe it's just the fact that I don't see my disgusting roots from a mile away. When I was done I rushed home and quickly put together my lunch. Luckily it wasn't as late as I thought it would be, but I was still really anxious. I ate way too fast and I had a stomach ache for a pretty long time. But before I knew it I had to leave to stop at the grocery store and then go to therapy. I needed to go to the grocery store because when I went yesterday they didn't have something that I NEEDED for tomorrow. I think I said this before but I have the same breakfast and lunch on my appointment day every week, it's a superstition thing. But anyway I needed this product for that because I ALWAYS have it, so I was hoping they would have it at the store if they re-stocked but they didn't. OMG I went into panic mode. I didn't know what to do. I thought to myself "should I buy something else? Should I buy a smaller version? Should I use something different?" I was standing there biting my nails just looking with worry on my face at the empty shelf. I decided to just walk out of the store since they didn't have what I was looking for, but then ED said to me that if I didn't have the SAME exact kind of yogurt, then my appointment would be bad. So I looked like and idiot and turned around and went back in and grabbed the single serving of it. I went to pay and the girl looked at me like I was crazy. Who goes into a store and buys one thing? I felt really embarrassed, but I needed it. ED made me. I left the store and then my next stop was Trader Joe's because I always go there before therapy since it's on the way. I always spend so much time in there going up and down the rows just drooling over everything that I can't buy or have. I swear the people who work that day know exactly who I am and I look like an idiot. But I was in there for like an hour or so which is crazy but whatever, and I bought my 2 things and then before I knew it it was time for fucking snack. Let me remind you that I had a stomach ache after scarfing my lunch down in .2 seconds so I still felt sick and full, but I managed to have my snack and for the most part didn't listen to ED. I walked into the bathroom at therapy, lifted up my shirt, and made sure I wasn't now 200 pounds, and I wasn't so I could take a quick breathe before I went into my session. I was still so uncomfortable and it was really making me anxious. But then she came out to get me and I was really debating in my head about what I should talk about and tell her. She broke the ice by saying how I looked tan and very blond and then I started by telling her about yesterday and today and how I went to get my hair done and blah blah blah. I talked about what's happened since I saw her last week, told her about Easter, and how I'm going to Newport this weekend, and how I had the dreaded Boost increase, and just a million other things. But the main thing we talked about today was money. Yes, money. I told her how stressed I have been about money and how it actually kept me up this week. I told her how I have to pay for all of my visits and my groceries all on my own because this is all MY issue, my Dad tells me. I told her how he makes me feel guilty for spending all of this. He yells at me for taking so much money out of my account. He has told me that he I have to buy my own food and he wont buy it because if I don't eat I will be wasting my own money and not his, but the thing is, I'M NOT STARVING MYSELF! So I don't get why I have to pay for everything. He yells at me telling me I'm spending too much on food. Well, would you rather me starve Dad? It's so stressful when I get a meal plan increase not only because I have to eat more, but now I have yet more money to spend on something. It worries me a lot. He says to me, "Maybe spending all of this money will give you some motivation." Oh ya right, like this can just make me change one day and all of a sudden be fine Dad, ya. He is always on me and makes me feel so bad because he constantly reminds me how I'm wasting all of my college money on this. Let me just repeat, he says I'm WASTING my money. Oh really? This is my life we're talking about here! It's so frustrating. He makes me feel so guilty. He's on me about getting a job and blah blah blah. I feel so bad about myself and I'm afraid I'm going to be broke and never be able to move out or go to school and that he will never help me because he will say it was MY choice to WASTE my money on something like this. I'm not fucking choosing to spend my money on this!!!! I have NO CHOICE!!!!!!!! My therapist was getting really frustrated too, especially by how my Dad was acting around me and how he is making me feel bad. She said not only do I have to deal with the stress of food and everything else, but now I'm worrying and feeling guilty about this! She asked if she could send an email out to the rest of the team to talk about this, and maybe they would talk to my Dad about it. I said that was fine, but I'm afraid that he's going to yell at me and think I'm plotting them against him and that I'm making it seem like he thinks money is all that matters. I don't want him to be mad at me, that's the last thing I want. But he's just not helping matters right now. I'm already stressed about everything else enough, now this. Ugh. But I came home and made dinner, and really just didn't want it. I was anxious and weighed myself and I think I'll be okay but I'm still scared. But I guess whatever happens happens.

I wore semi- shorts today and I feel really bad about myself.

I am constantly pulling the band around my waist to stretch it out
so it doesn't fit tightly against my hips.

I'm so self conscious and I hate myself for having so much fat.

No one should have to see that. I bet Lindsay couldn't;t even focus on the conversation during therapy because my thighs we blinding her and taking away all of her attention. Ugh. I'm a disgrace. I'm so anxious about my appointment tomorrow. I just don;t know if I'll be good or not, but I'm hoping that I will be. I mean I did kind of okay this week I guess. I had my times when I listened to ED, but hopefully that the fact that I did my increase will help. I feel so fat and I'm worried about what she'll increase tomorrow. I'm seriously going to complain to my doctor about how fat I feel and how I just can't gain any more weight. I don't even know what she will say. I will just say I'm struggling a lot and maybe she'll say okay we'll just leave you where you're at for this week. I'll tell my nutritionist that too, and hopefully I won't get an increase by most likely I will. Fuck my life. It will make this weekend a living hell. I'm already debating whether I should even follow the increase or not. But of course me being the perfect patient I am I will do it. I will do it but I will hate myself for it. I hate myself so much for doing all the right things. I hate when my doctor tells me that I'm doing a good job, because in ED's eyes I am failing. And his voice overpowers hers. He is always right. I just am sick of feeling so fat and ugly and huge. I just want it to stop. NOW! I feel so chunky and meaty every second. I can grab all of the disgusting fat on my body where I never thought I could ever have any. I'm such a fat fuck. And I know I'm fucking annoying right now but I feel like shit. I don't want the number to keep going up and up and up. I'm not okay with watching it and just sitting around and eating more and more. That's NOT okay. AT ALL. I'm such a fucking failure for not listening to ED and he's making that clear. Ugh. I guess I just need to go and watch American Idol and be the perfect daughter and make them seem like everything is okay. I need to take a Tylenol PM so I can be knocked the fuck out so my mind isn';t racing all night about my appointment. Shoot me. I'm nervous that because my breakfast isn't the EXACT same stuff, then I'll do bad. I'm scared. AH! I'm sick of all of this. Every fucking single second of every fucking single day.



Today has been a fucking terrible fucking body image day.

I keep hoping that the next day I wake up that it will all be over and I will wake up from this nightmare, but that's not the fucking case. The fucking situation is me waking up, looking in the mirror, and seeing even more fucking fat. I'm so tempted to fucking grab scissors and just cut everything off.

Cut off all of this fucking shit all around my organs that is only making me feel like more of a useless, disgusting, fat pig. But of course it's not that easy. Oh no way. Life isn't that easy ever, it only gets harder and harder and fucking harder. I CAN'T FUCKING STAND IT. I really don't know what to do. I really don't. I'm breaking down. I'm fucking going scrazy as fuck. ED IS MAKING ME CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't fucking deal with him anymore. He will not stop feeding me all of this crap about how fat I look, and how I should be ashamed of myself because I don't have a six pack, or that my thighs are getting closer every time I eat, or that I am a failure, or that I will never fucking be good enough. WHEN WILL IT EVER STOP?! WHEN WILL HE EVER GIVE UP AND JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?! The fucking problem is that he will NEVER give up. Oh no, the words give up don't go along with ED. He fights until he fucking KILLS EVERYONE. He does everything he fucking wants and doesn't give a shit about my feelings. I feel like his slave. He fucking doing everything to make me miserable. AND HE DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT. I'm sick and tired of his shit. He's making me more and more miserable as every second passes. He's killing me by the second. He may not be killing me as much physically as he was before, but he is fucking murdering me in my mind. He's fucking killing me. I'm listening to everything he says and I'm soaking it all up. I mean seriously, I have no fucking choice! It's impossible to not fucking hear all that shit and not believe it! I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such an annoying fuck like ED says. He's fucking right. All of the things he says is fucking true. Why would he even say it if it wasn't? If it wasn't true he wouldn't be wasting his fucking time. He has plenty of other people he deals with but yet he still has time for me. He wouldn't be wasting his time. CLEARLY he's right. I guess I just have to fucking put up with it an accept all of the things he's saying. It's killing me but I can't do anything about it. I just can't. There's no way to fight him. He's fucking winning this battle.

Sorry I just sounded like a 2 year old and had a tantrum, but I just don't know what to do.

I'm ready to just wake up tomorrow, stay in bed, keep my blinds closed, with my TV off, not eat; just sit in my bed all day sleeping so I don't have to listen to ED. I need piece of mind. But I know ED wouldn't leave me alone and let me get away that easily. Oh I know for a fact that he would follow me into my dreams, and will turn them into a nightmare. Like I said, he never stops.

I just feel like I'm at a loss.

I don't know what to do next. I don't know what to fucking think anymore.

I'm going crazy and I have no control anymore.

ED has all of the control, and he won't give it back. He ALWAYS has the control.

That is why he is so powerful. He makes all the decisions, and decides how this relationship is going to play out. AHHHHHH!

I just can't fucking seem to divorce him. I can't get him out of my life.

He is so abusive and I'm too afraid to leave him.
I'm too afraid that he will NEVER leave me alone.

He'll always be on my doorstep waiting for me, and he will always be knocking.

And I feel like because I'm so fearful of what he will do that I will always answer it.

I really just want to give up so badly right now.

I listened to ED today like always and I just don't give a fuck anymore.

I don't care if I lose weight, I don't care if I don't follow my meal plan,
I don't care about any of it.

But you know what, I'M A FUCKING LOSER and I don't have the balls to be a rebel and do whatever I really want. I wish I could be. I've always been such a people pleaser and I've always done what everyone else wants because of the fear that I would be disliked and all alone, and that's why I can't fucking go back to how I wanted. I know the real me isn't like that, I'm not a rude person who would lash out on my doctor, but this part of mme wants to so badly. I was never a rebel, so now I want to be one more than anything. I have so much that I want to say, and so much that I'm keeping inside. So much fury, so much pain. I feel like I'm about to blow, but instead of doing it all at once, I'll probably do it bit by bit. I'm going to say to my doctor that I really don't think I can gain any more weight, and I want her to fucking let me do what I want, but I know for a fact she won't. The only thing she would ever do was maybe let me stay where I am for a little bit, but I would still have to gain more. Like I said I keep trying to tell myself that I only have 6 more weeks of this gaining shit hopefully but it will be just my luck that it will be longer. But 6 weeks just seems so far away. It's too long. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. Cry away all of this pain and just erase it from my life. But the only way I can erase it is to go through it and get to the other side, but I just can't seem to get through it. It seems so fucking hard and I don't know how people can keep fighting. Clearly I'm not strong enough. Clearly I'm not the right person for recovery, I'm not good enough. But of couuuuuurse the Mrs. Perfectionist part of me will say that I need to be perfect at recovery, and that I need to be the perfect patient, and follow my meal plan perfectly, and not disappoint anyone. It's so fucking confusing because her and ED are on two totally different pages sometimes, but then at some times they are hand in hand, and play along by the same rules. I never know what to expect with them. All I can expect is that I will always need to try harder at what I'm doing, and that I will never satisfy them. Never. It's impossible. Ugh I feel like such a mess. I feel like this is just all way too much. I'm sick of being fat and just dealing with it. There's only so much I can deal with. And this is not something that I can. Eventually I won't be able to anymore.

Today was beautiful, but it didn't seem to help my mood.

From the second I woke up until now as I'm typing this
I have been depressed and miserable.

ED ED ED is all I've heard.

He's made m look in the mirror a million times,
and he's made m step on the scale a million times.

He made me nervous at first because I think I lost weight,
but as the day went on I think it was the same.

But once again, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.

I WANT to lose all the fucking weight I can get away with.

I can't afford to gain any more. If I do I'll be officially known as the biggest 19 year old in the whole entire world. It's pathetic. It's embarrasing. It's something that I can't let happen.

Ya I'm annoying and you all probably think that I'm crazy when I say that because 110 lbs is no where near fat, but on me it is. The number matters, but it matters more about how I look physically.
I may look fat, but I could still be 100lbs. And I'm fucking fat and that's all I am.

But enough with that.

The only good thing about today was that I made a hair appointment for tomorrow.

Finally something else to do to get out of this borning cycle,
and it's a safe place where I won't see anyone.

But I kind of do get anxious about it because I don't know if she knows what's going on really, and she asks about school and stuff and I have to lie. I feel so awkward and i wonder if she knows that's not the truth.

I'm even more fuckiong afraid that she'll say I look good. I really have a bad feeling.

I mean in reality I have gained since the last time I saw her, and I have been eating obviously so I am looking more awake and alive but I hope she doesn't sat anything. That will just make my start to my day a living hell.

Then I have therapy at 4 whcih I so don't want to go to.

I hate pretending that I'm fine when I'm not.

I'm just too ashamed to say that I'm struggling. I feel so awkward when I do open up about stuff because I feel like I'm blowing things way out of porportion
and I just look like an idiot.

AHHHH and then I will have all of the anxiety about my appoinment Thursday.

I honestly don't know what's gonna happen. I hope it's not terrible, because that will just make going away to Newport a fucking living hell. I will be miserable and then that will start a fight with Dad and Denise and then that will stress me out and then I will feel bad and take it out on food and exercise, and ya you can see how that will just create a snowball effect. Not good. Who the fuck knows! AH! I'm fucking going out of my mind today. I'm so triggered by someone and I can't even stand it. I feel like they're flaunting how skinny they are and it's so frustrating. Here I am going through hell to gain weight, and they get to do whatever they want and be so small that it's unhealthy. I'm just feeling so bad about myself now and it literally makes me want to starve myself. I was this close to not even touching my dinner, but I didn't give in. I'm better than that. I'm just worried about her too. It's sad that she's so sick and she doesn't see it. But I just need to worry about myself and my life. It's better that I'm moving in the right direction versus going backwards like some other people. But seeing that makes me want to go backwards, but at the same time it shows how far I've come. But still, there is that part of me that wants to be sicker than them because that means I'm better.
The competitive side of ED comes out, and it's ugly.

But anyway, today sucked and tomorrow will too.

Just another day filled with depression and bad body image. What else is new.

Off to go watch The Food Network because that's all I do with my time.

How sad is that.

But whatever. I can't help it.

Fuck. Snack is so soon and I still feel shitty from dinner.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I'm too fat to be able to sit outside in shorts and a T-shirt.

I stayed out for approximately 10 minutes, then couldn't bear to look at my thighs taking over the chair anymore. I hate summer, I hate shorts, tank tops, bathing suits. I don't want it to come.

The most dreaded season of the year will be here before I know it. It's coming too quickly.



AKA Fuck Anorexia.

I bet you all caught on to that already, and if not, now you know.

That's pretty much what my day has been like.

I want to give a big F you to ED for making my day a living hell.

It seemed to get only worse as the day progressed.

I woke up feeling as though I had already gone through a whole day of eating.

I looked in the mirror and was ashamed and just wanted to go back to bed
and never wake up.

I didn't want to face the day, I didn't want to eat,
I didn't want to have to listen to ED anymore.

I made my way downstairs and slowly as I could to stall making my breakfast,

but of course I had ED in one ear telling me how I shouldn't eat, and then Mrs. Perfectionist in the other ear telling me that I need to be right on time, and if I'm not I shouldn't even start to make my breakfast.

I was too depressed to listen to either of them.

I felt like a robot. Like I heard them both but had no energy to give them my full attention.

I knew that if I did the day would be a living hell
full of me fucking up over and over again and feeling bad.

I had my breakfast and felt terrible.
I felt as if there were now bricks at the bottom of my stomach.

You can only imagine how much I wanted to just say Fuck it for the rest of the day.

But I didn't. I then had my snack which was lower calorie than my usual one, and it made me feel a little better. Which probably isn't good, but I still had my exchanges I needed to.

The morning was such a drag. I was sooo bored I was staring at my computer screen with Facebook just watching things get updated every time they did. I am useless.

It's pathetic that that is what I do with my days.

I should be in school, going to the gym, going out, but I obviously can't.

I have too many fucking issues.

I spent my morning making my grocery list for tomorrow, and making sure it had no scribbles or anything and that it was perfect looking,
and if I messed up I needed to start all over again.

Then I looked over my meal plan and planned out what I need for Newport this weekend.

Just thinking about it and having to eat in an unfamiliar place makes me anxious.

I hate how I'll have to pack stuff and have it pre-made and eat stuff in the car.

It's just not right, it doesn't feel right.

I want to be isolated, with no one watching me, and no one around.

But I have to suck it up this weekend and just deal I guess.

Hopefully they won't be watching me too much. I mean for the most part I'm following my meal plan, and they don't even know what that is, so I'll be fine.

But I'm dreading what I'll have to add for my increase this week ahhhhh

I already have a feeling I know what it is; another Boost.

Shoot me. Another fucking 7.83 I have to spend on fucking shit I don't need.

It's so expensive! I hate it. I hate wasting my money, it's so depressing.

But anyway we'll deal with that when the time comes I guess.

I had lunch, and afterwards I felt SO TERRIBLE.

This was the first time in awhile when I actually felt like pure shit.

Physically. My stomach hurt so bad and I felt so bloated.

I wanted to kill myself. It didn't stop either.

I was dreading snack because I felt like I was already gonna blow, but I had it.

I fucking had it and I felt like shit about it but I still had it, and that's all that matters.

But I felt so bad that I had no choice but to give into ED.

He was screaming at me as I stood with my naked body before I took a shower.

He told me how fat I was. He told me that I gained so much from eating all of that, that I should be fucking ashamed of myself, and I was. I was fucking embarrassed and mad at myself that I allowed myself to put all of that into my body. It's unnecessary. I'M ALREADY FUCKING FAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For God fucking sake why can't I just do what the fuck I want and stop being so meaty.

My thighs are fucking thunder thighs, 
my stomach is distended about 12 ft from my body.

Meat meat meat meat.

That's all I am. And not the good part of the meat, the part that's all disgusting and fatty.

The part that nobody wants to be around because it is bad for you and so disgusting.

That's what I am. A disgusting piece of flabby shit.

I weighed myself today a million times and I was fucking what I was yesterday.

Which I guess in reality it's a good thing, but I'm so pissed about it.

But I'm still nervous about my appointment on Thursday, but I've kind of had the fuck it attitude, and that if I did lose, I would have an excuse because I said I have always been afraid of Boost and that it would be really hard for me to have it. And plus I gained this past week so it wouldn't be like I lost 2 times in a row.

But my doctor is still a hard ass, and she scares me.

I decided I'm going to tell her that things are going bad because I don't feel like I can handle gaining any more weight. I'm curious what she'll say. I bet she'll say that I have no choice, which I don't. I wish I could just take a break for a little bit and maintain. I'm so sick of feeling shittier and shittier as my meal plan increases.

There comes a point where I literally want to kill myself
because I'm sick of eating so much.

Both physically and mentally.

I still think I gained for sure though, but we'll see what happens.

The only thing I'm afraid of is that my Dad always asks me how it went when I come out, and I have to be honest with him and tell him if I lost, and I'm so afraid he'll get mad at me for not telling him that I was struggling. But I just don't want to bring attention to me, and have them watch me like a hawk.

That would only make matters worse. I just hate disappointing him,
but showing that I keep fucking up.

For some reason he thinks that since I have been doing what I need to,
that I can't mess up or slip back.

He thinks it;'s so easy to just say fuck you ED I'm not listening.

I don't tell anyone when ED talks to me because he'll yell at me and torture me.

No one can know the real details.

I sometime tell my therapist or team if I'm having a hard time with things, but I don't tell them specific things. I just tell them how I'm feeling about things overall. And they just tell me to hang in there and try my best.

But there is only so much I can do. ED is taking over more and more each day, and the sad thing is that I'm continuing to let him. I'm falling deeper and deeper into this hole, and I'm under his spell.

I've talked to some girls from treatment today
and they have kept me pushing through the day.

I talked to one earlier this morning and she knows exactly how I feel because she is dealing with the same issues as I am. Basically doing all of this work without treatment. She gives me hope because she's doing it. She says she has her days, which is normal but she is still motivated to get back on track for the same reason that I am; treatment. I just kept rambling on and on about my insecurities and how I'm so afraid to gain weight and she just kept reality checking me and telling me that everything will be okay, and that what I think will happen probably won't, and that what I see now isn't really there. I admitted to her that I have been giving into ED, and she said that at least I'm still trying to pick myself up from it. She said that if I'm okay weight wise right now, then I can work on all of that stuff later. I know I have to at some point because I can't get back into this habit again, but I don't feel like I'll ever get around to it. I feel like I'll continue to put it off day after day because I'm getting away with it. But I feel like I will learn one day when it bites me in the ass, but I guess I'll only learn when that day comes.

I'm talking to another friend and I love talking to her,

I can vent to her about anything and she listens; she understands.

And I listen to what she has to say too. We give each other the best advice we can, and try to pick each other up when we want to give up or when we are really down.

We try to continuously cheer each other on and remember that we're in this together, and that this pain won't be forever, and it will all pass someday.

She's kind of in the same position I am as far as gaining weight, so it's good to talk to her because we are basically on the same page.e tonight I was talking to her when I was having my dinner and i saw that I had forgotten something but ED was telling me that since I forgot it I shouldn't even bother getting it, and that it wouldn't make a difference if I had it or not. I have to admit, I was going to listen to him, but I told her about how he was saying all of this to me, and she reminded me that that wouldn't be a good idea, and that I will regret it. She helped me to stand up to ED and get what I was missing ans have it. After all, majority rules and it was us 2 versus ED

I've been extremely triggered lately by a lot of people.

People talking about weights, and them struggling and it makes me jealous.

It becomes a competition and I want to beat them,

It;s like I get mad at myself that they're doing a better job at their eating disorder than me.

I want to be number one, I want to beat them, I want to be the winner of the prize.

But what is the prize? The prize is being able to say and show that you are the sickest.

I know that's terrible, but it's true among all of us.

We don't compare ourselves to those who are in recovery and doing well.

No one ever tries to be better at recovering than the other.

ED doesn't think that way. He knows that by recovering, you're loosening your grips with him, and he doesn't approve of that approves of you listening to him constantly, every word he says, and if not, he'll blow up and make you feel so bad. To the point of tears building up in your eyes, or bringing scissors to your wrist. He is a bastard, and always will be. I hate him, but I love him at the same time. After all, he is someone who will ALWAYS be there for me, no matter what.

I hate Mondays so thank god it;s almost over.

I like Tuesdays because I get to go to the grocery store.

Ya I know, pathetic. It gives me this rush that I can't explain.

Looking at all the labels, and drooling over the food I can't have.

I know I'm weird, but whatever.

I'm dreading the food part about tomorrow though, bleh.

Fuck food and fuck eating.

I think I'm going to call the hair salon tomorrow and see when I can get my hair done which is a plus I guess. I need to get it done sooo badly it's not even funny. But I'm anxious that the times won't work out with my meal times and that I won't be able to get it done. My goal is to get it done before Newport but I'm not sure if that will happen or not. We'll see.

I'm off to go weigh myself, watch Secret Life, and wait around dreading my snack.

I need to do something with my fucking time, but there is nothing to do.

I fucking hate all of this.

Fuck ED and fuck Mrs. Perfectionist; and everything that goes along with them.

I'm sick of their shit, but I'm not strong enough to fight it anymore.

I'm losing hope.

I'm ashamed.

I want to hide my fat disgusting body in the dark.

All I want is to be thin.

It's all I want.



"There is never a sudden revelation, a complete and tidy explanation for why it happened, or why it ends, or why or who you are. You want one and I want one, but there isn't one. It comes in bits and pieces, and you stitch them together wherever they fit, and when you are done you hold yourself up, and still there are holes and you are a rag doll, invented, imperfect. And yet you are all that you have, so you must be enough. There is no other way." — Marya Hornbacher (Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia)

Here I sit, in the room next to where my family is.

I can't be in the same room, I can't be around them eating or all of the food.

It's all too overwhelming, and stresses me out.

I've been with them physically probably 2 hours out of the six they have been here.

I was with them when they first arrived, and sat there while everyone else talked and I was in ED's world.

I felt as if I could've left the room and no one would've even noticed.

I felt invisible, but some part of me wanted to feel that way.
I didn't want attention to be on me.

I made sure to wear clothes that showed my bones as much as possible so I wouldn't get comments of how I "looked better." Thankfully I didn't get any,
and I was really worried I was.

I ate at my own times, and they ate when everything was ready.

I got nervous as the time was nearing for me to make my smoothie for afternoon snack.

I thought to myself, "should I do it ahead of time so no one see's me
and I don't draw attention to myself?"

I was battling what to do in my head. But Mrs. Perfectionist was screaming at me telling me I had to start making my snack at EXACTLY 3:30,
and no time before or after. She's a pain just like ED.

I went into the kitchen anxiously hoping no one would follow me, but everyone did.

I pulled out my new single smoothie maker that Dad got me for Easter.

Ya, I got a smoothie maker for Easter. I got a gift certificate to get my hair done too.

Normal people get candy, but I get things for my food. How ironic.

But anyway, I pulled it out quietly and of course Dad screamed how he was interested in my new blender and he told everyone that that was what he got me for Easter. Of course that drew attention to me and I got so nervous. I felt like a fat cow because they are actually seeing that I'm eating something. I was ashamed. I want people to think that I starve myself. Showing that I eat is too embarrassing, and I hate when I say that I am. Of course the maker was so fucking loud and it brought even more attention to me. Kill me. But I tried to do it as fast as I could so I could just take everything and go up to my room. Denise's mom came up next to me and asked me if I would be having my drink with them, and I responded under my breathe by saying " I don't know." When really, I did know. I knew for a fact I wasn't going to eat with them. Fuck NO! They would all be looking at me thinking how fucking fat I am. And I would not be able to sit around all of that food while they were eating, it would b too awkward, so no thanks. I was done finally and practically sprinted up to my room so I could just get away. As I was having my snack I realized how stupid I was for having it. I felt so sick, and fucking FAT. I'm getting fatter and fatter as I speak. With every fucking bite and sip. I hate it, I can't stand it. So that caused me to stay up in my room for hours until dinner. I couldn't stop looking at my legs and my stomach in the mirror, and ED was telling me how I'm definitely not considered anorexic anymore because of the way I look. I have broken the point of people thinking that I look too thin or sick, and that I should hate myself for it, and I do. I stood there so depressed with tears in my eyes, just hoping I would close my eyes and then open them, and everything would be how I wanted it to be. But every time I did, it seemed like all I looked was bigger. I'm a disgrace. I shouldn't be alive. I'm taking up too much space as it is, and I still have fucking more to go. Fuck my life seriously. I weighed myself a million times today and everytime the number was the same, but it was more than I wanted. Part of me was relieved because hopefully because of it my appointment will go okay, but there is a bigger part of me that just wants to run away and hide. I'm so ashamed. I feel so guilty for doing what I should, and I don't feel guilty for listening to ED and I should. The fact that I'm letting myself fall back into this hole worries me, and it has become a bad habit again. I'm scared to break it, I'm scared to be strong and fight ED because all he does is make me feel like shit if I don't. Ugh I don't know what to do.

I feel so stuck in this rut.

I don't know what I want right now.

Do I want to continue to live like this because it' what I'm used to, and I'm good at it?

Or do I want to be free and live a life full of happiness
and make all of my wishes and dreams come true?

I know you're probably thinking that this isn't a hard question to answer, but it is.

I'm so ambivalent about recovery.

I go back and forth every second I'm awake just asking myself what I should do next.

 I want to so badly just be a rebel and say "Fuck you" to everyone and just do my own thing and be with ED, but I'm too scared. I'm just not that type of person.

I can't tell you how many times I tell myself that I'm going to tell my doctor that I'm refusing to gain anymore weight, but I'm too fucking scared of her getting mad at me. I feel like compared to some other people with eating disorders I'm too nice I suppose, when inside all I really want to do is speak what I really want to do.

I want to tell m nutritionist that I won't eat anymore.
But I am afraid of what would happen at that point.

Even though I'm over 18, and I can really make my own decisions, it can only go so far.

My doctor has told me that if I don't take her recommendations or do what he says, then she won't allow me to see her anymore. And then that would just turn into a big issue with Dad and Denise. I bet they wouldn't let me live at home if I wasn't seeing a doctor, which I guess I could understand, but I'm not sick! I'm too fucking fat to be sick. They shouldn't be worried. My heart is fully working again so what's the big deal. Ya I know that even people with okay blood pressure and an okay weight have died in their sleep but that won't happen to me. It just won't. I want to so bad just to run away to California and be on my own. If I didn't waste all of my money on co-pays and food I for sure would move into my own apartment just so I could be on my own. I know probably people wouldn't approve but hey, I'm 19 and I can make my own decisions. It's MY life. But I feel like I have no control over my life when I should. ED is the one in control and I don't feel like I will ever be strong enough to get my control back.

I'm still caught up in the whole gaining weight thing, and I just wish it was something that I didn't have to deal with. I'm already fay enough like I've said a million times, but it's true. No need to tell me that I look "better." AKA fat. I already came to that conclusion and 'm aware, believe me. I know that even before looking in the mirror or stepping on the scale. I can feel it. The fat surrounding my bones, and covering up their beauty. Bones are beautiful, and they are meant to be shown. Their structure is admired, and every curve is meant t be shown. That's what my job is, to flaunt them and be make them known. I'm losing that opportunity. I'm just secretly hoping that all of the weight will go into my boobs and by butt and not my thighs or stomach. But I'm scared. I seriously pray to God that it won't turn out how I think it will. I really hope it won't be.

When I was cleaning out my room this past week I put away most of my cheering stuff in boxes just because there is no need for it to be out anymore. I don't know if I've said it on here, but I had a cheering skirt form the 7th grade that I would continuously try on just to see if I still fit in it, and if I did I was happy because I was small. The weeks passed and it was getting tighter. I got more depressed. I made the choice to put it away in the box. This was a big step for me, I ignored ED and knew that as the weeks went on it would just be a recipe for disaster, and it would make everything ten million times harder. Part o me is relieved that I won't have to deal with it anymore, and I put away the box on a high shelf s I can't reach it. But I do have small jeans that I still have that I try on just to make sure those aren't to small or snug. They are jeans from Hollister that I didn't fit in before because they were a size 3 and I was a fat manly girl, but since I lost all of this weight, I put them on and they immediately fall to my ankles. I love it. I love that I can't feel them around my waist or my thighs. I hope that I will be able to wear them when I have all my weight gained. I have always dreamed of being a 3 again. I wasn't that size even when I was a freshman. I can't even remember when I was. I was always so big. But I really hope that they still won't fit when I am in my range. I would love to be a size 1. That would be AMAZING. But I know rationally that that probably isn't ideal. But I guess a size 3 I could deal with. I hope I hope I hope. I need to keep trying the on the make sure I don't get too fat. And if I don't fit in them, I really won't allow myself to gain any more weight or eat any more. Like my nutritionist said, they can't make me do anything, and if I'm at a healthy weight according to my height then they can't argue with me. That's my plan. But hopefully everything will work out how I want it to so I won't have to deal with being a bitch. Ah I'm sorry I'm so pathetic and that I continuously talk about how fat I am and how I'm way too heavy and that I weigh too much but it's just really hard for someone like me to deal with. It's basically impossible to deal with. I wish I didn't have to deal with it at all!

I'm exhausted after a day of doing nothing but sitting around and being depressed.

I only have one more snack and then I can finally stay away from all of the guilt and shame for a few hours.

But I am dreading waking up tomorrow,
just for the simple face that right now I feel so bad.

I feel so fat. And I feel like I literally have gained weight just from today.

I mean nothing is impossible is it? That's what I'm always told so it much be true.

But whatever.

Tomorrow marks the start of another stupid pointless week.

More appointments on the usual Thursday, blah.

I am hopefully going to get my hair done at some point this week though
which will be good.

This weekend we'll be going to Newport too and I guess it will be good to get away.

But I have to plan everything out and shit and that's stressful.

At least it's not as much as Florida, it's only 2 nights and 3 days but still it stresses me out.

And then it's May already. That's crazy. The past few months have gone by so fast.

To think I was at CEDC almost 6 months ago is crazy.

I can't believe I've lasted this long honestly.

I also just realized that a year ago I was at Klarman, aka hell.

A year ago I came home, and was doing well, and actually felt kind of normal and happy.

I was at a higher weight than I am now, and I didn't hate my body 100% so that maybe gives me some hope that it will be the same this time, but ED tells me I will be fatter because back then I wasn't eating as much, and I was exercising. So that scares me. But maybe I can get back to that point. I don't know. It still seems impossible, but it must not be since I was there before. But I just can't believe it has been a year. It seems like it was yesterday. I have been through so much since then it's crazy. I wonder if the same thing will happen that happened a year ago. I did well for a few months and then I went downhill out of nowhere. We'll see I guess. I feel like Dad and Denise and my team are watching me a lot more now, but my plan is to fool them and make them think that I'm doing good when I'm not, and I'll slowly start to lose weight again. It WILL happen. I can promise that.

Almost time for snack. Shoot me.

ED is loud and I want to listen to him so badly.

But I can't right now because of certain issues,
but I will at some point I'm sure when I get the chance.

I just need to listen. It won't make me feel as bad; it will take some of the pain away, and that's what I need right now. I need to feel at peace a little bit,
and that's the only way I know how.

But I don't know. I just don't know.

I'm glad this stupid holiday is over,
and there won't be another one that I'll have to deal with for awhile.

Thank God.

But I hope you all had a good Easter if you celebrate it,
and if not then I completely feel your pain.

Blahhhhh. Goodnight.