I'm a fucking fuck up.

I'm done. I can't do this anymore.

Each day keeps getting harder and harder and I don't want to deal with it anymore.

I can't deal with it anymore.

I'm going downhill and I don't give a fuck.

I don't even want to be able to stay where I'm at, I just want to lose.

I stand in the mirror cringing looking at this disgusting fat body looking back at me.

A normal, flabby, not bony, not small, body.

Thighs getting closer, stomach getting looser, body getting wider.

I CAN'T DO IT.

I can't I can't I can't.

I wish I could take a fucking knife to my body and slice off everything that I wish wouldn't be there.

I can't stand having it weigh me down.

I need to be lighter. I need to look lighter. I want to feel like a feather. Right now I feel like a cinder block.

I fucking big, useless boring piece of shit.

I'm sorry but I can't keep continuing to let this happen to me. It's not fucking worth it to me.

Today has been a roller coaster.

Woke up early, had my nightmare come true.

Looked in the mirror and saw even more fat than yesterday.

Had to fucking eat breakfast earlier than usual because we had family therapy, and then Dad told me we were leaving earlier than we usually do so then I had to fucking rush and scarf down my breakfast like a fucking cow and then I felt like shit and then I freaked out because I wouldn't be home to exercise.

We got there too early and ended up waiting forever because she was late.

The meeting was annoying and pointless. I basically just updated her about what's been happening and Dad said he can see that I'm still struggling. Well DUH but he doesn't really know how badly. They can't know.

We were in there for what felt like forever and then finally peaced out and came home.

I weighed myself because I wasn't able to before breakfast and was hoping that because of yesterday the number wouldn't be down, and it wasn't. But then I felt like shit because it just proves I'm still a fat ass. But the scale made today even worse because I did shitty again today. Figures. I exercised, then had my snack late because Dad was fucking talking too much, and I didn't have what I was supposed to but almost. I didn't care. The rest of the morning I started working on Denise's birthday present which is a birdhouse. But to make it more personal I got one from Michael's that I can paint myself. Dad gave me the idea, and it was cheap so I went with it. But now I have to spend the whole week doing it. I guess it's better than just sitting around on my ass thinking about how miserable and fat I am. It took up time and distracted me and before I knew it it was lunch, but of course I had to make sure I exercised before. Then I had lunch which was fucking dumb and pointless because I WASN'T HUNGRY but I have to be a pig and force myself to eat. I was planning on starting to paint Denise's birdhouse after lunch but I had to plan out my meals and snacks for the week and it took me longer than planned. I thought about it way too much and I calorie counted everything and made sure I didn't have too much one day and if I did I would have to switch it. I'm starting to have the same meals and snacks every week just because I know they're "safe." If I see that I won't gain a million pounds then I'm not going to take the risk of changing what I eat. I don't really care, I don't taste the food or even like it anyway. Come to think of it it's such a waste. Eating food that I don't even want. Give it to someone in Africa who is fucking starving, they'll definitely take advantage of it versus me. But NO I am forced to be a fat ass. SO MUCH FUNNNNNN! Blah. But I still have to count everything up again to make sure stiff isn't too high. Ya, I'm back into another bad habit but whatever clearly I don't give a fuck. I can't help it anymore. I'm going crazy. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't keep doing this everyday. LET ME GET A FUCKING JOB! They're basically setting me up for failure keeping me at home! Seriously. It's like their basically making me sit in my house and stay in my head 24/7. Fucking cooooool. I'm so fed up! I'm sick of this! I really don't know how much longer I can go doing this. I'm trying to catch myself whenever I fall or slip but I don't even want to get back up anymore. Why would I get back up? That means I just have to get fatter and eat more? HA no thanks. I wish someone would switch places with me!!!!!! Actually no, no one deserves to feel like this every fucking day. No one. But I deserve it. If i didn't, this would all be fixed by now. I guess this is how my life was supposed to turn out huh?

Go into bathroom, lift up shirt, look at thighs, look at stomach, turn to the side, turn to the front, tighten stomach muscles, turn to the side, tighten stomach muscles, look at collar bones, turn around, look at spine, turn around, have thoughts about wanting to kill myself.

Times that times about 100 and that's what my day looks like.

Oh ya plus eating, eating, and more eating.

Sounds fun right? Oh I forgot to mention the scale too.

Oh ya and I do that in the downstairs bathroom, my bathroom, Dad's room, and my room.

Different angles, different mirrors, different times. AHHHHH!

I want to make it all stop! But I can't not do it.

ED has to prove to me that I am fat, and that I am getting fatter and fatter every day.

He rubs it in my face and then tells me to listen to him.

I have listened. I don't give a fuck anymore.

I can't see any more fat. I can't do it.

Do I seriously have more to go?!

WHYYYYY?! I'm confused. I don't look fucking skinny!

I LOOK NORMAL I LOOK LIKE A NORMAL FUCKING PERSON.

That isn't okay with me. Fuck what the number on the scale says. I fucking care if I look normal or not. I want to be that fucking skinny bony ass girl on the street that everyone looks twice at.

That's the only way I would be noticed anyway. Oh wait, they would still talk about me because of how FAT AND DISGUSTING I am. I would be the topic of conversation because I would be so distracting to them because of how I look. This is why I never want to leave my house.

So I don't have to deal with any of that crap. So I don't have to deal running into people hearing them say " You look better." FUCK THAT. I don't WANT to look better! What don't you understand about that?! Why would and anorexic want to look normal? EW.

Yesterday I was so caught up with the scale and the number and now today I'm caught up with how I look in the mirror. I keep looking at myself and I see someone who isn't anorexic. I look down and then look back up hoping it was just a fluke, but it's not. I look even bigger every time. I can see muscles, but my stomach isn't completely flat; I can see bones, but not clear enough. I honestly don't even remember what I looked like when I first started with my eating disorder. I was 20lbs bigger but right now I feel like I look so much bigger than I did back then. But I don't remember specifically what my thighs looked like, if they were touching or not, or if my stomach was completely flat or not. I feel like there is a difference because i wasn't eating a lot back then, and now I'm fucking eating. I wish I could just go back. Go back to October when I was at my lowest. I felt on top of the world. I felt like no one could stop me. I was doing everything I wanted but no one was saying anything. It was great. But then shit hit the fan and people started noticing. And then I was under their control. I just want that control back. I want to do whatever the fuck i want to myself. If I want to starve myself let me starve myself, I'm the one who has to deal with this body. It's mine. No one can make it a certain way besides me. I promise as soon as I do what my doctor fucking wants, and I don't have to see her anymore I'm going to lose weight. But like i said, not a lot so I have to go back to treatment, but I want to lose some. I'm not meant to be this big. I'm not meant to be 108lbs. That's too much. I can't believe I have to get there. I wish i didn't have to. I will be so much bigger. I don't want to be embarrassed to be around people who I shouldn't be uncomfortable around. I mean clearly, if I'm anorexic people are going to expect me to be a skeleton, and when they see me and realize that I'm not, they'll be confused. They'll think I'm a fake. That I wasn't sick enough. I don't feel like I am or ever was. I never had a heart attack, I never blacked out except once, I never got into the 80s or lower than that, so what's the big deal? But I don't know.. What am I trying to prove? That I can starve myself so much that I die? Dad always asks me, what's the goal? I honestly don't know what it is. There never is an ending with this disease. If I get to 90, I'm still not satisfied and I want to be lower and then it repeats and repeats. Nothing is ever good or small enough, so that's why we push ourselves until we're basically dead. There is such a drive in my body to get to that finish line but thinking about it there really is no finish line. Rationally I know that, but I can't stop pushing myself to get there. I'm afraid that I never will be able to stop. There will always be that part of me pushing myself to go more and more and more. Maybe I'll change when something traumatic happens. Until then I'm afraid that nothing will snap me out of it. All i want to do right now is exercise and lose weight and look smaller. Why does it have to be so difficult? I want that one thing and it's everything I can't have at all.

I need help. And i don't know what to do about it. I don't want help, but I know I need it.

I think that maybe I can pull myself out of it because I have before, but sometime I can't.

Maybe I need to fuck up and show myself that I have no choice but to change.

Maybe I need threats of treatment and the hospital to make me gain weight and eat .

That's what has kept me going in the past, but I haven't gotten threats lately.

I think that's why I've been sliding back even more. I fucked up a few weeks ago and she didn't make a big deal out of it so then i didn't, and then she said to get back on track, and I did, and now that I did okay at that appointment I'm back to not doing well. I feel like I'm just going to keep going back and forth back and forth, but I know that won't fly with Dr. Gupta. At some point she'll become impatient and that's when I'll be screwed. I can't get on her bad side. But seriously on Wednesday I am telling her that I don't think I can gain any more weight. Because honestly, I don't think I can. And then maybe if i freak out and get into that she'll tell me how much more I have to gain. If not I'll just ask her how many weeks I have left and that will basically tell me how many pounds. I just need to fucking know so I can relax a little bit. But yet again that would probably not relieve any of my stress because I'll still be thinking about the weight. Fuck I'll never get away from this shit. I'm always going to be fucking thinking about weight. I know it. Gaining weight, losing weight, maintaining weight. ALL OF IT. Ugh ndjnhefnejwghwjrhengwrhngher

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO RIGHT NOW I'M GOING CRAZY.

Tomorrow is Tuesday which means grocery shopping day.

Aka something to look forward to, which is pathetic but whatever.

Then I'll be home to stare at my fat body in the mirror and stand on the scale see a triple digit number staring back at me, to eat too many fucking calories than my body needs, to gain more weight, so think about everything way too much, to listen to Mrs. Perfectionist in my ear, to listen to ED in my ear, to listen to Dad blabble and Denise, and to fucking try to keep myself busy and paint that birdhouse.

Sounds pretty good to me. Someone please make it better! I don't know what to do.

I haven't done that well today as far as following my meal plan or exercise but the exercise isn't as bad as yesterday. I'm trying to accept what I see in the mirror but I can't. I don't think anyone can accept seeing themselves with a fat body. I know I need to keep going but I want to stop so badly.

I keep trying to keep my appointment on Wednesday in mind, but it doesn't seem to help.

I just want it to fucking be over with. I don't want another fucking increase either.

I probably won't even end up following it since I gain weight without one anyway.

Fuck eating more. It's disgusting I can't handle it. I'm such a selfish fucking fat pig for eating so much.

Give it to someone who fuckign wants it!!!! It's such a waste.

But I'm nervous about my appointment and if it will suck or not.

I really just need to tell her how i don't think I can handle gaining anymore and maybe she'll give me some reassurance. I'm going to tell her how fat i am and how normal i look and maybe she'll tell me that i still look way too thin, and that will make me happy, but yet she will probably be lying to me just so she doesn't cause my ED to go out of control. Fuck I don't know what I want or what to do right now.

I need someone to lead me in the right direction. I need someone to pick me up and tell me what to do and where to go. I need someone to tell me that everything will be okay. I need someone to tell me that they will care about me no matter what I look like. I need someone to tell me that I am beautiful. I need someone to tell me that I am not fat. I need someone to tell me that I don't look normal. I need so many things from people, but I will never believe any of it. That's what drives me insane. No matter how many people tell me, ED is always right, and he will always be right no matter what. He has me brainwashed.

Off to exercise and weigh myself compulsively.

I'm going to try to have snack and stay away from those thinspo sites. I don't need that shit right now, but it's just so god damn addicting. I can relate to them, and I hate feeling so alone right now. I don't feel like I have anyone anymore. Ugh whatever. Stop fucking crying you deserve it.