I can't stand my fat fucking disgusting body.

It's getting bigger and bigger and I hate it.

My thighs are slowly getting closer and closer by the day, my stomach is making its way out,

everything is going wrong. Why is this happening to me?

I prayed and asked God to make me not so enormous; I prayed that he would make me the opposite of how I pictured myself to be.

Things could be worse; I don't have the re-feeding belly really which I'm thankful for (knock on wood)

But everything else is making me go insane.

My eyes are glued to every single flaw and every body part that I wish I could change.

I always want this to be skinnier, and that to be smaller etc.

There is nothing about my body right now that I'm "okay" with.

My bones are fading behind this fatty flesh; I can't take it.

Why can't the number go up but my body stay the same? Why can't it be that simple?

Shit, it would probably be just as hard because I care about the number so much,

but more so how I appear on the outside; what I see in the mirror.

I'm so fed up with feeling this way, and it's starting to eat away at me.

I want to lose weight so badly. I could benefit from it.

I have no reason to be this big. I was fine the way I was before.

I want to get back to that. I just want to feel somewhat "okay" with how I look, but that can't be a possibility if I have to be this weight. I'll never learn to accept how my body is right now. I just know it.

Today has been a pain. It was busy which is good but it was annoying.

I have been in such a down mood all day.

I woke up and looked in the mirror and wanted to cry, but nothing would come out.

What I saw in the mirror has been haunting me all day long.

I tried not to let it bother me; I had breakfast and did okay. I am ashamed. ED hates me.

Then Dad and Denise left to go see her mom at a yard sale she was having so I had some peace and quiet for a few hours. I weighed myself and that's when everything went downhill.

Clearly I'm not surprised because the scale is the devil.

I remember how I said yesterday that I was hoping to see the number go up because I want my appointment to go well, but when I saw that it was up today, I went into a panic.

All of a sudden ED stormed into my body and was yelling and screaming; telling me to do this and that.

I changed my clothes and felt terrible, but I had nothing else to wear.

I looked so fat. So fat, and ED made sure to tell me loud and clear.

I wore leggings but they're loose, and a big Hollister long sleeve. I looked gross.

Then I went down to have my snack, and nit picked at it because I just didn't give a fuck.

ED told me it wouldn't make a difference because I do it all the time anyway; I listened.

Dad and Denise came home shortly after and Denise wanted to go get pedicures.

I was so anxious to go out to a place where I could possibly see someone. I didn't want to see anyone, especially today. Thoughts consumed my mind. "They will think I look fat." "I look normal." "My thighs are so big it's disgusting." "People will think I'm cured because I don't look like I have a fucking eating disorder."

It just kept going and going and going. They consumed my brain.

We got there and I anxiously was looking around the entire time to see if anyone was around.

As I was getting my toes done I made sure to hide my fat thighs under my shirt, I didn't want the Chinese girls secretly saying to each other how big and fat they were.

I sat in the chair and analyzed every single person around me.

Every body part compared to mine.

" Her calves are smaller than mine, FUCK." "It's okay my stomach doesn't look like that." "Her wrists and arms look exactly like mine; that means I definitely look normal. I hate myself." "Her collar bones are sticking out too, so I must not look too thin."

It was terrible. Another thing was that since they were working with my feet, I couldn't shake and move my legs like I always have to. ED was screaming at me telling me that my legs were getting fatter.

I felt so ashamed and embarrassed.

But at least my toes look good I guess.

Denise walked through Macy's and looked at some clothes, then she asked me if I'm at a point yet where I could start looking for some clothes.

HAHAHA ya right. I said no obviously, and told her I still feel uncomfortable in baggy clothes.

I don't know when I'll ever be able to wear jeans and a normal shirt. Fuck. That's scary as hell.

I never want anyone to have to see my body. Blah.

We came home and it was time for lunch. I looked in the mirror and nothing had changed, I was still fucking fat. It even looked like I was even fatter than the last time I saw myself.

I can't fucking stand this fucking shit. AHHHHHH!

After lunch I felt really guilty. Dad and Denise left to go out to lunch and then I would meet them at the movies to see Bridesmaids.

As soon as they left ED made his appearance.

I went and weighed myself, and saw that the number was still the same as it was this morning.

FUCK ME. I wanted to shoot myself. But instead I exercised. More than I normally would.

I had to. I couldn't stand to see my muscles not as visible as they were yesterday.

I went and went and went.

At one point I got nervous because of my appointment, and I remembered what I had said to myself about not liking the number going up, but that just means its less weight I still have to gain, but I just couldn't get into that rational mindset. I was too anxious about that number and how it went up in a matter of a day.

I realize that maybe it was a fluctuation, but we'll see tomorrow.

I know that by exercising I'm doing nothing but hurting myself, but i just need to make sure I stay tone and don't get a total pot belly. No way I won't let that happen.

Hopefully it won't fuck with my weight. I mean I was doing the exact same thing last week and I only had a 70 calorie increase and I maintained, and this week I had a 110 calorie increase and I'm exercising so I should at least stay the same or gain a little.

Fuck. I don't want to gain :( I hate it more than anything!!!!!!

I couldn't get myself to feel guilty about exercising because I felt that bad about how I looked.

I then proceeded to make my snack and kind of took the lower calorie route, and cheated a little just because I felt so bad, and I thought about how i would be sitting on my ass for the next two hours.

I felt so shitty. I felt so full. I wasn't hungry at all. And I didn't want to go sit in a movie theatre pretending to be having an okay time.

Luckily I didn't see anyone because it was on the earlier side thank God, but I still wasn't comfortable.

I feel like people were looking at me thinking how fat I was. Ugh.

I was watching the movie, or at least trying to.

It was really awkward at times because it was pretty raunchy. The first scene was a sex scene and Dad seemed pretty uncomfortable, and then just other stupid shit jokes.

I couldn't focus on the movie the entire time. I got caught up in looking at the characters and comparing my body to theirs. I can never fucking stop doing that! I find that it's such a habit now and it's really annoying. It does nothing but make me feel worse about myself, but i can't stop it!

I was so anxious the entire movie too because i was going to be late for my dinner. A whole half an hour late. Fuck me. I was going nuts. Mrs. Perfectionist was driving me nuts. But it was a quick dinner to put together, and it was low calorie which made it a little easier.

I just feel so terrible right now. I want to hide under my covers and never come out.

I hate more than anything that I don't look sick anymore. I hate that I can walk without feeling dizzy. I hate that I can sit and actually get up. I hate that I'm not freezing all of the time. I hate that I have color in my face. And because of all of this, everyone thinks I'm fine. Everyone bases all of this on the fucking outward appearance. When really, I'm not doing well at all. Mentally all I want to do right now is lose weight. I am going through this shit right now to get it over with so I can be on my own soon and get back to doing whatever the fuck I want. I just want to scream out and tell Dad and Denise that I don't want to get better, but I know that will only make them angry. I lie and tell them that I'm motivated, and i keep my mouth shut so they don't know I'm struggling ad much as I really am. I don't tell them how fat I look, I don't tell them about my weight, I don't tell them about feeling depressed or sad. I don't want them to worry about me, and watch me more, but at the same time I want them to see that I'm hurting because I want to feel loved, and I'm only loved if I'm struggling. That's why I want to fucking stay this way. It gives me such a high and I never want to come down. I want to keep returning to it over and over again but right now I just don't have that option. But I will soon enough. I hate acting so fake, but that's how Dad wants me to act. He says that maybe if I'm fake it will stick and I will actually start to feel that way, but I don't want it to stick. It just doesn't feel right. I can't explain it entirely. Like in the movie clearly it was hilarious but I found myself with a straight face, and if I showed even the slightest smirk ED quickly made me stop. He is controlling me in every way.

"Stop smiling, that's what normal people do; you don't want to be normal. If you are then no one will are about you and you will become invisible to the world. Do you want that?"

ED is tearing me down more and more and i don't know how to handle it.

I'm still fighting because I'm following my meal plan and trying to not always listen to ED but the thing is that I don't WANT to fight. I am such a robot right now. I'm not happy fighting ED. It only makes me feel worse because he starts yelling more and more. He makes me feel guilty for gaining weight and listening to my doctor and nutritionist. He makes me feel like I shouldn't even live another day. I feel like I'm so close to throwing in the towel and just giving up because I don't feel like this can ever end or get better. I don't see any sign of any light anywhere. I'm sick and tired. Plain and simple. I'm tired of living my days on repeat, eating the same exact things every week, having all of the same appointments, etc. But the only way to change that is to recover and fight ED, but I'm not ready to fully do that yet and quite honestly I don't know if I ever will be ready.

I hate tomorrow. It's probably the most boring day for me.

I mean I go to church, but that's all. And the church's mass hours are different now because of the summer so that fucks everything up for me. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I can't bear to stay in this house all day. I'll probably just watch TV, look at my reflection a million times, and weigh myself. Nothing spectacular whatsoever. I have nothing else to do. I have no energy. 

I think Dad and Denise are going out to dinner tomorrow and then to a part afterwards which of course they didn't mention to me because they already know my answer.

I'll have the house to myself which I'm perfectly okay with. I like being alone, but it may not be the best thing for me right now. I know ED will be loud, especially after today. I already know I'm going to screw up. It will just be a repeat of last Sunday, but it all depends on what the scale says tomorrow. The scale predicts my days, how pathetic.

Then I don't know if their up to anything on Monday; they haven't mentioned anything about it.

I would love to have the house to myself, but yet again it wouldn't be that good for me at this point.

I know it's better to have people around, just so I don't go completely crazy.

I'm scared to wake up and have another day like this. How can I feel so bad after feeling not so bad yesterday? i just don't get it. I looked so much smaller yesterday. It's so confusing and so depressing.

I pray that tomorrow isn't that bad, so that I won't give into ED as much as I might, I can't afford it.

I'm already thinking of my appointment and how scared I am, but after today I think I'll be safe. But I'm knocking on wood because I don't want to jinx myself. Hopefully it will all work out. But I have a few days left before I have to start worrying about that.

I debating on telling her that I weighed myself, and that I know what the number is.

I'm hoping that maybe if I did she would just tell me how many pounds I have left to gain, but i don't know. I just need to fucking know. I think I know but I'm not 100% sure. She's saying I'm close, and that better mean only a few lbs. I don't know what I'll do if it's more than that. I will refuse to gain and more than the minimum of weight for my height. Fuck I don't know if I should say anything or not! Well this week is only a weigh in anyway so I wouldn't see her unless I lost weight, but then that could be an excuse if I do lose. I don't know. We'll see where I'm at at that point.

I can't believe it's almost snack time. I feel like I just finished dinner, but luckily it didn't fill me up too much. But I'm still feeling so terrible about my body, but it's decreasing a little bit.

I am going to try to not over exercise when I go up into my room, just do my normal stuff.

I'm going to really really try, hoping I don't regret it tomorrow.

I'm scared for tomorrow to come. I so badly want to restrict and not follow my meal plan., but I can't just give in like that. Fuck I wish i could, but I don't have the balls, and I don't want to have to face the consequences. I'm such a scaredy cat. I have to be the perfect little patient and not disappoint anyone, and if i do Mrs. perfectionist tells me I'm a complete failure. I believe I am no matter what I do anyway.

But I'm scared to keep going. I'm losing my strength and my hope more everyday.

I'm worried.