131.2

I find myself wondering what a healthy relationship is, I don't know what to do in one even if I had one to be in. I find it frustrating because I want to be happy but how can I be happy if I don't even know how to be happy by myself?

Needless to say I ended things with Hansel. It does suck but he was constantly triggering me to binge, and ending this relationship has given me just one more reason to not eat. I'm down to 131.2 as of this morning. A few minutes ago I weighed myself and I was 131 [after a bowel movement]. The majority of my diet these days is coffee and prunes, I don't see the need to eat much else to be honest. Last night I did eat a tiny bit of Alfredo chicken pasta but luckily it was not enough to make me gain today. And it got my mom off my back for not eating at the house at all this week.

In other news I just watched the “Starving in Suburbia” movie and I am unimpressed. It did to some extent trigger me because she got to 115 pounds, that is my current goal weight for those of you who don't know, and then decided to hit 103. I worry that I am doing that already. I look in the mirror and I think 16 pounds is not enough to like how I look. But I know I am not allowing myself to get below 105. THAT IS THE SMALLEST I WILL GO. NO BULLSHIT I NEED TO STOP IF I HIT THAT! But can I? Is it possible that me myself and I have hit the land of no return? That I'm back in the ED world unable to escape? I don't think so. I think I just need to remain in control and keep pushing because lets face it in the end all I need to do is hit my goal weight and I will be totally okay.

Nope that doesn't sound delusional at all does it.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Anyhow I am getting a new job in Animal Control I think I mentioned that already, and I am a little scared of what will happen when I actually start the job. I mean my medication is going to cost a small fortune for three months with no insurance and I am unwilling to get off of it or I will gain weight like crazy... But the good news is once I am settled in I will be able to afford to move out again. And my good friend Dev is willing to move out with me. We both want to get a house and its going to be awesome, a real yard and everything. :] Thus far today I have eaten a total of 40 calories. I am not hungry at all but I need to get online to post this so I am going to have to go get coffee here and actually post this online. It's sad that I am only willing to up my calorie intake for the sake of having coffee. Dear lord I am mentally ill. >.<'

I have more bills to pay than I do money to pay them with at the moment. It's driving me totally bat crap crazy. Anyhow I am currently at the coffee shop and hopefully I will soon be paying all my bills. I know I'm half broke already what good is it to pay bills now? I guess I am really just trying to keep my head above water. Not having Matt around makes life a little harder financially but over all I think it's better still. I might struggle but at least I don't have anyone calling me a fat cow anymore. Who wants to be triggered all the time anyhow? I think it's bloody miserable! Although I kid you not there is a couple of men next to me talking about losing weight and while they both need to, [obviously they are not small guys I promise I am not being a judgmental whore or anything] I feel weird being able to over hear them because I'm in a tank top and shorts and I feel gigantic, like a giant whale really, and here they are happy to have a little more wiggle room in their britches. I find it disturbing in a way because I remember when I started just trying to eat healthy that I was ridiculously happy to have my clothes growing looser. I was so excited to have people complimenting my weight loss and here I sit now drinking my coffee extremely slow and contemplating tossing it because of the calorie content. I mean I could walk two miles and get rid of these calories I don't know what is wrong with me today. I miss having someone to talk to about losing weight because I really can't start telling my friends and family about the agony I feel over being forced to eat a cookie, or even a spoonful of pasta. I'm not skinny enough to be sick so I don't feel right talking about my illness. It's funny how that works... Once I am skinny enough to qualify as sick I know I won't want to talk about it for fear of getting caught.

This has been happening to me more and more though, I start to feel okay and then drama happens and I can't even contemplate eating because I don't want to get fat. I tell myself I could eat if I wanted to but could I really? If I decided to quit today and go back into recovery is this something I could put down and never go back to? My pride says yes but my history says otherwise. This isn't the first time I have dealt with the idea of this. I mean really at the end of the day is this an illness or a choice?

I remember when all of this started for me I was making conscious choices to reject food. I remember thinking to myself 'If I don't eat that I can prove how strong I am.” That was a choice I made followed by a thousand other choices that eventually led me here. Now I can't even begin to explain the irrational fear that takes hold of me at the thought of going to a restaurant. Or GOD FORBID going grocery shopping; when I have to go it fills me with such anxiety I can't handle it I usually either buy something horrible and binge and then purge it. I know when I was making these choices I never wanted to get here. I never wanted to have panic attacks when people touch me because I don't want them to feel my fat. I didn't choose this part of this disease. I did idolize anorexics though, I wanted to be skinny and thin and have that kind of self control. I wanted that part of it dreadfully. Well here I am sick as hell losing my hair pounding vitamins and painting my nails everyday so that they wont break. When I work out I get chest pains, my blood work looks like shit and even my doctor is telling me not to lose anymore weight. But I still hate the way I look. I still can't stand myself and now I'm ruining everything I touch and it's only making the self loathing worse. I want to shrink until I can't be seen anymore. I want to show everyone what I can do and how well I can control myself. It's sick I'm mentally ill I know that but did I choose this?

I fucking hope not.

Miss Sinister