Today is almost over thank God.

I don't know how much longer I can listen to ED.

Making me feel worthless, making me look in the mirror and step on the scale every chance I get just to end up disappointed and with an enormous amount of guilt and shame filling my body.

I'm becoming more and more ashamed of the person I am.

Not just because of the way that I look, but because of the way I act as well.

I'm a selfish, lying, mean girl. I'm not surprised that no one talks to me anymore.

I'm so fucking annoying. I'm surprised people don't just tell me to shut the fuck up.

I feel so alone because really, no one talks to me anymore, but that is mainly my fault because I have pushed everyone away from me. I know the ball is pretty much in my court, and people are just waiting for me to make the first move but I just can't. For some reason I don't want to talk to people because I don't want them to know how I am or what I'm doing. It's like I want to be invisible but then I sit here complaining about how I don't want to be invisible, I want to be noticed because of how thin and sick I am.

It all makes no sense to me. All I know is I'm pretty much fucked up.

It's like if people know how I'm doing and can see that I'm talking to them again then that must mean that I'll in a different place as in I'm all better and cured. That's what I'm afraid of. And we all know how that's what I want to stay away from. Then the whole fear of being abandoned comes into play. I really associate this with when my Mom died now. Whenever my Dad mentioned something about it in family therapy it all of a sudden kind of clicked and there was a connection that I hadn't noticed before. That tragic event happened, everyone was right by my side making sure I was okay and were giving me attention and love, and then as the months went by people started calling less and less and it slowly faded. Then this tragic event happened, and people have been here for me because they are worried and they care so much because I'm sick and they're giving me the same love and attention that I got when Mom passed away, and I didn't like when that went away, so now that I feel this attention again I don't want it to go away. I'm afraid I'll just slip to the back of people's minds again just like when I did after Mom passed away. I feel like this is such a big issue with me because I am always the one who does everything for everyone and wants to make everyone happy and feel loved and cared for, and maybe I didn't feel it as much from other people because I was too worried about their needs, and I've always wanted that kind of love and care and now that I have it I don't want to let it go. Cause lets face it, if I'm in treatment or in the hospital with a half beating heart like I was a few months ago people would be fucking scared and worried, but if I'm home and listening to my team, and eating, and gaining weight, then they won't be as worried because they see from the outside that I'm doing what I need to, so I must be all better. I know everyone thinks that. Maybe that's why no one talks to me anymore. Maybe everyone thinks I'm all better and they just have no interest in talking to me. Now that I think about it I think that might be true. Hm. Well that's pretty fucking depressing now that I think about it. Maybe my fear has already come true. Maybe I already am abandoned. Maybe that's why I don't want to get better, because I already see that my worst fear has come true. I don't know. Just pondering things for a moment. I feel like everyone is just too annoyed to be apart of my life. They're so fed up and sick of me being like this that to them it's too much work to even try to maintain a relationship. I can understand. I'm a fucking bad friend/family member. I deserve to be left in the dust after all I've done to everyone. Maybe I just need to accept it and move on with my life and find new people who know nothing about me whatsoever. I feel like people who do know me are just comparing me to the person I was before all of this. They all say "I want the old Trine back" but that's the last thing I want. That Trine was so unhappy on the inside for so long. I was numb from the world even though it looked like I was fully a part of it. Ever since Mom died I feel like I have been in a fog. I don't even remember the years after she passed away. I don't even know who I would be if I did recover. I can't see myself being a strong person who is happy and accepting of the way things are. It just seems so impossible right now. But maybe that's just ED making me believe that so I don't leave him. Fucking ED. A pain in my ass. He makes me worry about all the things that shouldn't even matter. To other people a fucking number on a scale means nothing and it by no means takes away their self worth, they enjoy food and eat what they want when they want, they exercise for enjoyment not to burn off all of the calories they ate that day, they want to have healthy looking bodies not bodies that look like a walking skeleton. I think all of the opposite. My world revolves around the scale and my weight, the food I allow myself to have, the exercise I need to do so I don't get too fat, the bones that I search for the moment I wake up every morning. It's sad that those are the things that are most important to me. Not my relationships, not going back to school, not getting a job, none of that. I'm still wrapped up in ED, but I am trying to slowly loosen his grip. But I find that the more I try to break away from him the tighter his grip gets. He's afraid; he doesn't want to lose one of his creations. And I am afraid to be without him. Who will tell me that I am doing a good job? Who will put me in my place as far as eating weight and exercise? I will have no one. I will have to rely on myself, but I don't feel like I'm strong enough to do that. I feel like I will always need to lean on a voice inside of my head because I wouldn't know what to do without it. I just wish that voice wasn't so detrimental to my life. I wish it wasn't so harsh, controlling and demanding. It's one thing to look out for me, but making me feel worthless is on a totally different spectrum. I don't know I feel like I need to hear that harsh stuff sometimes so I don't crumble and go out of control. Like I almost need a reality check of how things really appear and how they are. But everyone else tells me that all of that stuff isn't true; that what I see and what I am told isn't there, it's non-existent. I don't believe it. I SEE FAT IN THE MIRROR. How is that just an illusion? How can my mind and eyes even create something like that? It has to be true and realistic. I fucking hate all of that shit and having to deal with it everyday. It only makes me miserable and more vulnerable to ED. I feel like it will always be there, and at some point I will just have to know in my head that what I see isn't real, but I just can't do that yet. I don't know how to get my brain unprogrammed from that way of thinking. It seems like second nature now. Fuck mirrors, fuck bodies, fuck fat, fuck scales, fuck weight, fuck love handles, fuck thunder thighs, fuck muffin tops, fuck rolls, fuck jiggling, fuck fuck fuck it ALL! UGHHHHHHHHHH

I hate the weekends. I already ranted about that yesterday.

I just am in my head so much more than usual and I have absolutely nothing to do.

I mean it's not that much different than the week because I don't do shit then either, but at least I have some plans on some days that I participate in. I don't like how I'm around people in the house more on the weekends too. I don't know why it bothers me so much. I mean its not like they bother me or talk to me alot, they really don't say anything at all. I guess I just find comfort in being alone, and i don't understand why because that only gives ED more of an opportunity to shit on my life. I don't know, I'm just so used to it I guess. I was so scared to wake up this morning after yesterday being the first full day with my true meal plan. Ah I was so fucking nervous. I first of all felt so bloated and sick to my stomach so breakfast just wasn't looking to promising to me at that point. I finally did my usual checking and examining of my bones, and they were still there, but it didn't seem like they were as much as they were yesterday. I looked in the mirror and I looked fat. Definitely bigger than yesterday. I wanted to crawl back into bed and stay there for the rest of the day. No eating, no drinking, no talking, no nothing. I mean clearly I was big enough so I didn't need to eat anymore. I tried to tell myself that that was just ED freaking me out, but I truly did feel bigger. I didn't even want to face the day, but I had no choice. I made my way downstairs and slowly got together my breakfast. I was about to have what I wasn't supposed to as in something lower calorie but I didn't give into that. I needed to know what it felt like to have what I was really supposed to, then I could really see if it would make a difference the next day. So I made myself have it ( blah) and I had my increase too. I FELT SO MOTHER FUCKING FULL IT'S UNREAL. I started freaking out. I wanted to know what the number on the scale was, I needed to know, but I had to wait until after breakfast. I waited for an opportunity and slowly stepped on. I'm pretty sure it was a little higher than yesterday, but I don't know if that id ED messing with me so he can freak me out and make me exercise and restrict, but I tried to just accept the fact that it was higher. I mean I ultimately need it to be higher just to be safe for my appointment next week. So I tried to just say fuck to the scale and I went to the mirror, because ya the number matters to me, but I care more about if I actually look fat. And I wasn't happy with what I saw. I saw every place that looked bigger. I measured and got overwhelmed and depressed. I didn't know how I was going to be able to get through the rest of the day. The word "normal" kept popping up in my head. ED assured me that I looked normal and not skinny anymore. I don't want that! I went downstairs depressed but i couldn't show it. After all they don't know that I weigh myself. But i have a feeling that they must, I mean their not stupid, but whatever. I distracted with my facebooking and blogging and then it was time to leave for therapy. I was actually looking forward to it today because there was a lot I needed to get off my chest. On the way there I had to have my snack, and I did my usual bad habit of nit picking at it and throwing the rest away and I felt so terrible afterwards. I went in the bathroom and lifted up my shirt to only find a fat belly staring back at me. I wanted to run and hide. I was mad at myself for wearing not baggy enough of clothes. ED told me that she would notice that my belly was big, and that I just shouldn't even go to my session. I tried to just tell myself that I was bloated because I just just ate and drank, but it was difficult. I got called in and updated her about the week and my appointments. I told her about how bad I have felt about myself and my body the past few days, and how I've tried to get back on track. All I wanted to say was how bad my urges are for exercise, and that I was proud of myself for cutting down on it, but I couldn't tell her because she didn't know I was even exercising in the first place. UGH I wish I could just be honest. But i can't. If I am I'll be watched more and won't even be able to fucking go for walks. So no thanks, I'll keep it to myself. I mainly talked about how I have felt so normal looking the past few days too and how I'm so depressed about it. As soon as I said that, before I even got to finish she looked at me with a crazy look and shook her head. Apparently I don't look normal? I was happy and relieved because that's the last thing I want, but I still don't believe her. I feel like she was just saying that so I wouldn't freak out. Ugh I know I look normal, I know I do. I hate the words normal and healthy because ED tells me that just means I'm worthless and fat. She suggested that maybe I come up with some other words that I associate those things with so I can look at them differently. We brainstormed and came up with things like, those words just mean that my organs are working, and my muscles are getting stronger, and i can think more clearly, and I'm not as weak. Rather than associating them with fat, being cured, and being fine. It's just so hard to tell myself those things and believe it when ED is all up in my ear telling me the opposite. I will try to maybe write them down or put them on my mirror but I don't know if it will help at all. I told her how worried I am about my weight gain and blah blah blah and she told me that I need to stop jumping ahead, and I need to just focus on one thing at a time. I'm so fucking bad at this. All I do is worry about everything! I need to just take it day by day and face things when they come, and that's all. A lot easier said then done! But overall it was a good meeting. We didn't talk much about what me and Denise talked about last night so maybe I'll save that for Wednesday but I don't know. I came home and made lunch which was hard but then I tried to distract and did a little painting. It helped make me focus on something else but of course Mrs. Perfectionist was with me telling me how fucking bad I was and how I should just stop. She's so fucking annoying. I just kept going because really I had nothing else to do with my time. I made snack and Mrs Perfectionist made sure I started and finished at the same time and I had to listen. It just wouldn't feel right if I didn't. I watched some lame TV, the Food Network of course, and then all of a sudden I started thinking about calories. I haven't thought about them in awhile as far as adding them up, but today I had a huge urge to. I figured I kind of had an estimate and I knew it wouldn't be good for me to actually add up everything and see a legitimate number. But then before I knew it I had my phone out with the calculator pulled up and I was typing numbers. I was kind of estimating what my meals and snacks were roughly at first but then I actually added them up. I was so anxious as I was doing it and I was scared to press the = button to see what the number was. I knew what I was getting myself into wouldn't be good, but it was too late. I did it, and to my surprise it was lower than I thought it was. Thank god it wasn't the other way around because that would have been terrible. I mean really it shouldn't matter anyway because either way I have to gain weight, but to me for some reason it matters. I'm so stupid because all it does is make me feel like a fat enormous pig for eating that much, but then I remember what Julie told me Thursday about how my heart and brain needs SO much food to get functioning okay again; so I'm just trying to tell myself that it is all going to those places, even though I clearly see it appear on my stomach and thighs. I just can't wait until the day that I can eat a fucking normal amount. But thinking about it I will probably always feel bad about eating not matter how high or low it will be. To me food will always make me feel bad and guilty. So I guess it's just a lose lose situation on my part. That blows.

I'm so anxious for snack tonight. I usually have frozen yogurt even though it's basically ice cream but ice cream is more fattening and has more calories and sugar so clearly I won't have that. But dad bought some that is No Sugar Added and has barely any fat and is the same calories as my frozen yogurt would be so I think i might just have it since that is what I have written on my meal plan for tonight. It's the same calories an that's all that really matters to me in the end. I'm just really anxious about it. I feel like it will make me feel so much more guilty because its' "ice cream" and I associate that as bad but it's basically diet ice cream so it's not as bad. I'm just going to try to suck it up and deal with it. Hopefully I won't regret it tomorrow morning. I just feel really bad right now and I want to exercise because all I see and feel are rolls and its really depressing and makes me want to cut myself up into a million pieces, but I haven't done as much exercise as I usually would have for the past 2 days so I need to keep it that way. I'm surprised that I've been able to not do crunches, but like I said I've been dancing so i guess that's still kind of exercise but nearly not as much as I used to do. A step in the right direction I would say, so whatever. I'm clearly not losing weight anyway so yeah fuck it. Denise is in Boston tonight so it's just a quiet evening here at home with Dad which I like better. I don't know for some reason her presence just annoys me sometimes, and I feel like it will always be that way. I mean I have a right to feel that way, she took away my Dad from me and she's trying to be my mother so yeah, I'm not too thrilled. I just feel more relaxed when she's not around for some reason. Ah I'm such a mean person. I'm sorry. She really is a nice caring person, but I'll just always have something against her.

I just remembered that tomorrow is Sunday which means I'm going to church and i just really don't feel like going for some reason, but maybe that will change in the morning. I need to go to get out of the house and pass time. I hope Denise doesn't go with me, I like going by myself so hopefully she gets home late tonight and is too tired to go early tomorrow. I hope. I don't have anything else planned for tomorrow except planning out half of my meal plan for the week and then oh ya of course fucking eating like the pig that I am. How could i forget that, that's all I do! Blahhhhhhhhhhhh. I'm so sick of this I just want it to end. But it never fucking will. I don't really want to try anymore. I'm just so tired and I see no light at the end of the tunnel. But I need to pretend to that I don't end up back in treatment with people watching my every move. I just need to get through this shit so i can finally be on my own so I can do whatever I want. I can't wait for that day. I pray to God that this all won't be as bad as i think it will be. Please don't make me that fat whale that I see in my head, please don't make me fail at everything i do, please don't make me hate myself even more. But mainly please don't make me fat. That's all I ask. That's all that really matters.