I am not doing this today. Just no.

I am just not equip to handle this shit.

I am taking laxatives, Right now. And I am removing this crap {no pun intended} from my system as soon as it is possible. I can not be 150 pounds. I'm crying. HOW DID I LET THIS HAPPEN? I AM SO ANGRY I AM UNABLE TO EVEN LOOK AT MYSELF. IF I WERE IN MY HOUSE I WOULD BREAK MIRRORS.

It's like what the actual fuck was I thinking. I can't do this to myself over and over again. I constantly tell people don't do this, Don't be like me. Its fucking SATAN in your DAMNED BRAIN EATING YOUR SOUL. But then I can't eat like a normal person. I can't be normal. Fuck I'm not even kind of normal.

So what right do I have telling anyone not to follow me to hell?

Well today is a new day and I'm once more starting to make changes hopefully positive ones that wont lead me on another binge/purge cycle. I hate purging it FUCKING SUCKS.

I'm a mess without my medicine. I'm sorry I'm jumping around so much here. I can't seem to pick a subject to talk about today.

B will be home soon. I'm worried he is going to start reading my blog. I try really hard not to hide things from him. I hate it when he hides things from me. So I guess this is it, he gets my permission. WHOLE NEW BREED OF TERRIFYING.

How the fuck do I explain that eating is a disaster for me. How do I show him everything? You can not explain the hundreds of emotions I feel when I'm trying to decide if I'm worthy of eating a carrot because carrots have way to many calories, but then I make brownies and eat that... Yeah because that makes tons of sense. Fucking moron. That's all I am is a god damned moron. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO IF HE FUCKING READS THIS SHIT?! I quite honestly am the most codependent person on the planet and he is going to see this and be like:" That bitch is psycho. I should totally bail before she loses it again and starves herself to death."

He is going to leave me. Holy fuck... What the ever loving fuck have I done.

We don't have secrets, We can't have secrets. Secrets kill relationships. I'm killing mine right now in this moment. Right here, right now. I should never have told him about this. This was a HORRID choice. WHY AM I SO IRRATIONAL? Although that explains so much about me it's a little sad.

Well B... If you read this: I'm so sorry I've kept this shit from you, and I love you. More than anything. Please don't hate me.

150.8 Fuck Fuck FUCK

Do you know what having a boyfriend gets you? Fat. It gets you fat. I've dropped 5 pounds in three days and I'm hoping to drop at least a pound a day until I hit 130 again. The trouble is every time I see him we end up eating and I can't say no to food without him worrying like crazy...

FUCK.

So yeah I guess it could be worse. I mean I could have just kept eating constantly until I ballooned up to 190 again. How do I keep ending up here? It's like I'm fine I'm okay... Then I'm eating... Then I'm not eating... Then I'm a whale. Kill me. Kill me please.

139

I'm back in the 130's! Jump for joy!

I put B in a bad place though. This morning I was looking at myself in the mirror and I was excited because I think I look better, not great mind you but better, and he said: "Way to go baby!" Which made me want to restrict harder to get to my goal weight faster so he will think I look better. I know he meant it in a positive way, I ate dinner with him last night and we have been able to hang out a few times this week which makes me happier overall, but I always take it in a bad way. Funny how that works.

I love him more than anything. I can't imagine losing him and I know this bullshit will make him leave me. But I can't stop. Even when I was full on attempting recovery I was spending an abnormal amount of energy trying not to count calories. Thins like going out to eat were a nightmare, still are for that matter. I want to stop but I can't even begin to think of doing something else.

This is going to dive him away from me, this will make him hate me.

Fuck.

Here lies the backlog from the last month of no internet. Sorry everyone!

Here I am again, stuck somewhere between trying to recover and not knowing how. It has been so long since I had a healthy relationship with food I don't know how to being to eat normally. The last few days I have not binged or purged or even really counted calories. Today I have eaten three meals one of which I refuse to look up the calorie count in [I am positive I will have a panic attack if I find out and as they say ignorance is bliss...] and I am really trying not to beat myself up for allowing myself to eat. It's beautiful outside and I am looking forward to going on a run today without needing to run off my calories. Just running because I like to run. It's a weird concept to me that is totally normal to everyone else.

In other news a man I am dating told me he loved me. It is weird for me because while I do have feelings of love for him I didn't say it back... I ALWAYS SAY IT BACK. I am so BEYOND codependent that I always say it first I think it first and this time I didn't. What is wrong with me? Am I broken? Or is this a sign that I have been fixed?

Who knows. He is amazing he makes me feel perfect just like I am. He makes me want to be normal so I can live a life with him. A real actual happy life. This never happens to me. Even my ex who I really liked and I deeply cared for made me feel beautiful because he made me feel small. This is so weird. Weird, weird, weird. Save me from myself here why is it that one week, yes you read that right I said a week although we have known each other longer than that almost three years we have been kinda sorta hanging out but only as friends, he has me giddy and head over heels and non stop smiling.

Even now hung over as fuck I'm happy I have him in my life.

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The above is from a week or so ago, I guess I wrote it but never posted it. Now I am back on my computer so this next bit is the current one.

Okay I weighed myself just now. I couldn't take the suspense and holy fuck I WEIGH 138 POUNDS. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. EIGHT POUNDS IN JUST A WEEK. HOW THE FUCK DOES THAT HAPPEN?!

I am trying to remain calm but the last few days have been non stop eating because of the people at my new job. I am constantly being fed and yesterday and today I actually ate of my own free will. Recovery is a bitch and I don't think I am doing it right. Currently I am trying to not have a panic attack. I am totally not adding up my calories for today or I will cry for sure.

B knows about my Eating Disorder, and he knows I am trying to get better but he doesn't get the drama that goes on in my head all the time. I wish he did. That would be incredibly helpful. :/

Anyhow I am going to be trying to restrict without relapsing. Is that at all possible? Am I kidding myself here? Probably I am, Who knows though it might not be so bad to relapse. Who gives a fuck if I starve? I should stop there because B does, and he would hate me if he read this. I mean legitimately hate me and possibly even leave me. I don't want to recover anymore. I want to go back to being empty and pretty and feeling beautiful because I am so small. Right now I feel like a god damn whale. Huge and useless. I could go make myself throw up my breakfast but I took medication and I can't waste it. That shit is way to expensive to toss down the toilet.

I want to talk to someone about this but I don't want to bother B with it. It's a lot to hear from the girl who you claim to love that she wants to go back to starving herself; that she can't stand to look in the mirror anymore; that there is nothing you can do to help. I am going to fucking ruin him if I talk to him about this. I care about him to much to keep hurting him. Maybe I should leave him so he wont have to be hurt by me? Would that make it better or worse? Most likely worse. If I leave him I would be leaving the only positive influence my life has left; I would be ripping my heart out to keep a disorder I don't know if I want anymore. I just want to be happy with how I look. Why is that so fucking hard?

So I keep writing these and not posting them. I'm really sorry yall!

So yesterday I said fuck recovery. I know I shouldn't. I know I am killing myself but I can't stop. I am sitting here staring at a peanut butter cookie and I don't even want to eat it. I did taste the batter when I was making them but that was hard enough. My dog even dropped her toy in my soup this morning. The universe is telling me not to eat.

I gave recovery two months and 17 pounds. SEVENTEEN POUNDS. I weighed myself yesterday and I was 147.2 pounds. Today I was 140. I fasted yesterday and today I am restricting. I have eaten a few spoonfuls of tomato soup, one peanut butter cookie and a bite of a chicken sandwich. That is all I can stomach for the moment. I've been drawing food a lot today. I drew an apple turning into a skull. It's really quite pretty and I can't decide if I did it because I'm fasting or because I don't want to view food as something healthy anymore. Who knows my brain is already super fucked up what is a little more to add to the mix?

I miss working. I got fired over Christmas because of my coworker. I listened to her and posted up a picture on face book that was against a policy and I was terminated for it. Fucking sucks. I've been job searching like a mad woman and that has needless to say fueled the fire. I feel like I'm useless. Like a waste of space.

I can't tell Benny. No really I can't. I need to. This is something he deserves to know, but I can't talk to him about it. What the hell do I say? Oh hey baby by the way I stopped eating again. Hope that is okay! Yeah because that will go over well.

I'm exhausted.

Okay I just ate the cookie. So that makes two cookies I have eaten today. At least my calorie count is under 800. I'm in panic mode about this whole thing. I do not want to end up gaining weight. I did that it was miserable. I just want to be skinny again. Is that so bad? I only want to feel beautiful.

This is a cluster fuck of not having internet. The oldest stuff is at the top. Sorry if it is really confusing.

Hello Relapse...

I was so close. So close to being able to be happy and then I did something stupid. I stepped on my scale. I gave recovering 17 pounds. That's enough. I can't do it anymore.

I don't have internet at my house so I have a ton of unpublished entries that I will try to post up here as soon as possible. Mostly what you all need to know is B my boyfriend is super mad about it. I try to be honest with him but I don't want to worry him. I lost 6 pounds in two days. I'm not really okay but I'm not really not okay either. Maybe that's why I feel like he doesn't need to worry so much. I tried to talk to him about it and he just got super worried. NOT WORTH IT.

Currently I'm just trying to cope with this and it's difficult to say the least. I love him enough that I don't want to keep doing this but I can't not think like this. He is sitting here right next to me, not reading this mind you he is watching football, but he is telling me that he loves me. He loves me I know that, hell we are working toward building our lives together and buying property and building a home. He loves me in a healthy way that makes me really happy inside and out. But the truth is I only feel beautiful when I'm hungry.

 

It's difficult to explain to him because he isn't familiar with it. He is concerned about me and I know it. He is trying to be gentle and he asks me to eat all the time but I can't help how I feel. Even talking about it is making it worse. Fuck recovery. Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with me.

Holidays and recovery

So as a few of you know I'm attempting recovery again. This time I'm armed with a healthy relationship and a meal plan of fruits and veggies.  I'm hopeful but it's still really hard some days. I ate a doughnut this morning and I'm both beating myself for it and telling myself it's okay.  It's a strange feeling. 

Thanksgiving is coming up and I'm in a weird place even without my ED. I'm not missing my ex at all but I am missing my old apartment and feeling secure with money. I miss the feeling of having a family.