It's happening again...

You remember a while back when


I had some issues with my Topa dosage (shortly after I first began taking it)


and I found that suddenly I couldn't even force myself to eat something as innocuous as...


a tiny bit of broccoli?


Negative calorie food terrified me, because it still weighed something, and I was literally afraid of the consequence that would follow if I consumed it...

The scale would reflect my failure the next day


if I put that food in my mouth.


Illogical, yes, in retrospect.


But the fact remains...


I was petrified of food, for two whole days.


I had mixed feelings about this at the time, but toward the end of the second day, I was mostly scared. I decreased my dosage for the time being and everything evened out.


I've gained back up to a hideous 133.4. (hideous is in the eye of me, I know. and maybe to some of you. here. have a looksee as to what I've allowed myself to become):




Fuck me.

I was at 126 just a few months ago. Yes, it's been gradual. Doesn't matter.

My thighs officially touch again. Barely graze one another, in the tiniest place.
But they touch.

There are places that jiggle and hang over clothing that would not and did not just six weeks ago. I was doing so well.

It's all back now. Backtracking. Backsliding. ugh...Wasted time and effort pisses me the fuck off. And saddens me.


But...
It's happening now.


I'm weak from not sleeping for nearly 36 hours (art project is doing its best to kill me) and from eating very little for the past 12 hours...


And I...

cannot eat.

Don't want to.

It repulses me, the pantry, the refrigerator. The thought.



Finally. I don't know why it's happening (stress? meds? seven energy drinks in twelve hours and no sleep for days?) but I'm not questioning it...I'm going to keep it going.

Thank the gods.



This time...

I shall embrace it.


Fuck getting scared...



I need this.





118. I shall see you. I shall.

I just ordered pizza and cinnastix for my ...

daughter?





and for my toilet bowl?
(let's not kid ourselves here)


Wtf...




I am such a mess.

EDIT:

Purge was successful...Binge wasn't as bad as it could have been. Only one and a half slices consumed, the rest c&s'd. Saved by that, I guess.

Not really, though.

*sigh*


...


Psychiatrist's follow-up on Wednesday to see how my Topa is working. Ha. This post answer anything? Maybe it's working just fine, and *I'm* still the problem.

Pretty sure that's the case, considering I never have an appetite now when I binge.

Hardly ever, in fact.

Sure, it tasted amazing. And it felt good in my mouth. But it felt horrible in my stomach. Which is why we get rid of things. Logical.

Suuuure.

I am anything but. Especially on this much sleep. Little sleep.


<3

Throwin' up is bad, mmkay?

So I've only made myself vomit (approximately) five or six times over the past seven days. I think. I don't count. It doesn't matter.


I don't think it matters.


Point is this: I've had the most horrendously painful acid reflux (more than usual) nearly constantly for the past two days now.


It seems a tad early to have done any damage, I'd think. I've probably just aggravated my stomach lining a little, or upset my little acid producer guys in there. Stress, too. Bra too tight, maybe. Side effect of my medication. Any NUMBER of things.

Also puking.

I'm sure.



STOP IT, P.D.!!!


It's not okay. I'm not even sure why I'm doing it, when it happens.

It goes something like this:

Eat eat eat (no control) nom nom scarf shovel what? eat OH GOD, what the fuck have I done?? *grab handfuls of love handles* ... *stare in gaping horror* ... *think* ... *contemplate* ... *plot quickly* ... Toothbrush.

Getting "better" at doing it is oddly satisfying (how fucking sick is that? God...) and addictive.


NOT OKAY.



Ouch. TUMS. Rolaids. I have to go. Uncle's home. Love you all.

There is nothing I can do now but do it right.

I must make a change.



We all say that. Not to generalize, of course. I mustn't do that.



Many of us say that, and often.


I must.


A change must happen, and NOW.






....




I can't continue to do this to myself.



Eating when I am not hungry, to appease... others... and my sense of ... what?

"health"


"well-being"


FUCK.


THAT.


THIN IS




EVERYTHING.


And you know it's worth it.





...


Stop


eating.






.....



<3

I've been gone because I'm guilty. In more ways than one.

I'm sorry that I don't have time for more of an update. You deserve so much more of an explanation than I have the chance to give you at the moment.

I miss you all so much. I think about you and I wonder how you're doing and I feel this ache pulling me back and then that shame in having abandoned this and you and everything...it all comes flooding back, and I know that's probably nearly all nonsense and definitely not any excuse to stay away (and that's only part of the reason I'm not updating as often as I'd like) but I just...

I'm sorry.

Mostly, it's school. This 2D design class I'm taking has me working CONSTANTLY...to the point of sheer exhaustion and physical illness... I'm not even close to exaggerating. I've stayed on campus til 5:30 AM so many nights (once even having to bring little B with me in order to finish up a big project right before deadline) only to come home, sleep for two hours, then make it back to class again by noon that same day.

Three more weeks of this torture. It's killing me. I love it.

Fucking masochist.


For a while there I was losing weight because of this class. It was great. I wasn't even able to eat properly, due to all of the work and my new crazy schedule. Then I settled in and started eating again. Shit. Now I'm back to 131 again. Now I know some of it is muscle. I've been walking a lot more, stairs and stairs and more stairs all over campus, and parking lots further and further away than ever. I look thinner than ever, and that's all that's supposed to matter, right? Ha. RIGHT.

It doesn't work that way.

I want 125 by July 24th. I need it. I need to starve. I must.

131. But looking thinner. Why can't I be happy with that?

The man I love told me yesterday that my body looks "perfect".. that I am "beautiful beyond his words"... I took a photo for him, sent it (as he is in Australia at the moment), and he even went so far as to thank me...for... get this... "creating this art" for him. He loves my physical appearance, my body, just like it is. He adores me.

I just want to adore myself.

ANYway.

I've been purging a lot more. Daily. Multiple times per day.

No bueno.

Thought I should throw that in there. It really has no segue or relevance.

I am so sorry, my ladies, my lovelies, my ANGELS. You have given me so much...SO MUCH... and have brought me so far over the time that I've been here. I promise I'm not gone forever, and for those of you who choose to stick with me while I figure myself out and get through the next few months of horrendous summer classes, I thank you in advance. I love you dearly.



<3
Stay beautiful. You must KNOW that you are. I do.

I feel SKINNY today!!!

Ha! That NEVER happens!

Okay, so 'never' is a strong word. SOMEtimes I do.

But you know what I mean. It's a rare occurrence 'round these parts.

You wake up with a concave belly and hip bones that just go jutting up beneath your bed covers to meet your ceiling fan like mountains reaching up to meet some kind of beautiful morning sky and you can't help but reach your greedy little hands down there and TOUCH THEM.



Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!! They're LOVELY!!! And then your ribs want to follow suit and it's just one big happy family of bones and taut skin and it's all so nice...you just don't want to ruin that perfect emptiness.

I love it.



I have to remember this when I get the urge to do what I just did.

Stopped writing to take care of the little one (who had unfortunately wet her bed in the night...Fun mommy type stuff...YAY) and then, after having dealt with that situation, I proceeded to enter the kitchen, pour myself a small bowl of gluten-free cinnamon Chex cereal (DELICIOUS and about 130 calories) with almond milk (about 40) and then I ATE IT. Then a banana. Then I wanted more. But I came back here instead because I know I'm not hungry. I just still FEEL hungry because it's morning and my brain hasn't had time to wake the fuck up and realize I just gave it entirely too many carbs in one sitting (not for the average person, of course, just for me).

ANYway... I should go. Little B needs a bath and I have some running around to do. Thank you so much, my beauties, for you welcome-backs and your encouragement. :) I am ever grateful.

Would you believe it? I'm really here...

This sums up how I feel right about always now:


I honestly don't have a good story for you lovelies. I'm sorry.


Well. I take that back. I have an amazing story. You KNOW I fucking do.


I just don't feel...at liberty...yet...to fully share it.

GAWD, I wish I could.

You know? Just spill myself out all over this table to you, gurgling and bubbling and babbling like a fountain, because that's what I do best, right?

And you'd all just take me in like you do so well, and you'd be lovely.

Because that's what YOU do best.

Well, I'm back in the 120s, but not by much. I don't know if I'd updated you guys or not...it feels like it's been forever...but I'd allowed myself to get as high as 134 again. It seemed almost surreal, seeing that number. Like, WTF, P.D.?! REALLY?! You've come this far, and put yourself through this agony, this misery, and then you've experienced the elation, the ECSTASY of seeing the 120s...and now you're taking it all away for WHAT? FOOD? Honestly...I know the answer to my question before it even forms in my mind:

Is.

It.

Worth.

It?




FUCK NO.



Food is never worth it.

It's so fleeting. You know? It really is. Always is. It's always gone in moments. And the weight? The hate? The fat, the handfuls of shame and guilt as it's just hanging over my waistband as I sit on my bed and just stare at myself, my thighs spreading out in uneven gelatinous blobs across my mattress...what the hell was I thinking? Was it worth it? GOD NO. NEVER. EVER.

So you'd think the answer would be simple. Keep my BMI under 21. Get it under 20. Do it already. Then under 19. Under 18. Keep it there. Simple.


Anyway.

My Topamax is doing what it should do in curbing my desire to chew and spit compulsively, but not without my help (this is to be expected...this is how this sort of thing works) and I'm having to cut off binge urges left and right, but not as fervently as before, it would seem. 127.8 a few days ago, but 130 this morning. Laxies have not been a part of my regimen for the past three or four days (yay me!) so that's why the number's higher.

I'm still c&s'ing on occasion, just to avoid b&p'ing, which I consider to be worse. I haven't purged in well over a week... I can't remember precisely the last time, and I think that's probably a good sign. My heartburn is worse than ever though, which is odd, considering the throwing up thing has gotten less frequent. Meh.

What else has been going on... Goodness. Short version because I have to run and do some junk. I've been trying to get tan. Tan fat is better than pale fat. Crucial. I'm in love. I shouldn't be. I can't help it. There is another man. I love him, but in a different way. Used to be in love with him, for nearly ten years. Now he believes himself to be fully and deeply in love with me. I cannot hurt him. He means too much to me. It's entirely and completely complicated.

I am $800 short on my tuition for my summer classes. This sucks huge donkey dong. Fortunately for me, my uncle is an incredibly generous man and has offered to loan me the dinero until I can pay him back in the fall with my loan money from my grant I get in September. Still sucks in the meantime because that means I get absolutely NO funds with which to keep myself afloat in any manner of speaking... baby sitter money or hey-I-feel-like-a-Coke-Zero money or whatever. Ah well. Such is life.

I have new incentive (somewhat related to the in-love-ness going on in the above paragraph ^^^ up there) to lose even more quickly my last nine or ten pounds. I say my last... pssh. I know. I'm nine or ten pounds away from my "goal weight" of 118. That's where I'll be officially "underweight" for my height. Whatever. I'll want to keep going because I know I'll still look hideous. I KNOW it. Nine pounds off of THIS body is NOT going to make me look thin. FUCK no. But...anyway. I have approximately seven weeks while ... someone... special... he's going to be gone. Away. And when he gets back... I want to have gotten as small as possible. I want to blow him away with how insanely hotly thin I am. He loves my bones. <3

This is a characteristically LONG P.D.-esque post. I know not if that is a good thing or a bad one, but I hope you don't mind. I love you lovelies, I truly do. Thank you so much for sticking around. I can't tell you how happy it made me to see that, in my absence, not only have you REMAINED here, but I've actually managed to GAIN a few more beautiful blogger followers as well! How very wonderful.

I will do my best to keep up...get back into the swing of things...

STAY perfect. You already are.

<3