I'm wearing it again...

...my red bracelet. Until now, I haven't felt that I deserve to even put it on.

I took it off and kept it in a special little box on my dresser a few weeks ago when I started my seemingly endless binge-fest... 8 pounds gained. Though I haven't lost it yet, I am well on my way, and I feel okay wearing it again. Not so much like a total and utterly useless failure. More like a girl with hope. Yay, hope.

I like it when my rings are loose.

I like it when my shoulderblades show.

I like it when I stand up from my chair and see stars, and that lovely weakness comes over me like a wave of...something wonderful. I'm high on it. Love it.

I like it when I don't WANT to eat.

I don't like it when I look in the bathroom mirror and see those saddlebags, all of that dense fat just drooping from my ass and spilling out of my shorts...Ugh. Note to self: Don't wear shorts. Ever.

The best reverse thinspo in the world can be found in my own mirror. Feel hungry? Take hold of some of that ass fat and give it good, hard SHAKE. See how it keeps jiggling like five hours after you let go?

YEAH.

Betcha don't feel like eating anymore, huh?

Oh, and cleaning someone else's toilet is great for spoiling appetite as well. Disgusting. *gag*

Of course, there's the old standby appetite suppressant...Lovely, tasty, antioxidant-packed TEA!!! :D *love*



It's a towering pyramid of cal-free deliciousness!

I should go do something productive. I've read so many blogs today, and commented where I could, but I'm having to share the internet with my uncle and share my time with...everything else. I took a picture of the finished fairy painting but it's on my other computer. I'll upload it asap.

In the meantime...



<3

I hope you lovelies are doing well this afternoon...morning...evening... YOU get it.

I love you alllllll SO much. Srsly. More than is probably appropriate.

<3

Out of touch, out of laxies, out of my mind...

...well, that's not entirely true, up there ^^^... I have more laxies, but they're Ex-Lax, and I'd rather stay away from them except for in case of emergencies. No, I mean my little bottle of Cascara Sagrada...it's empty! And I couldn't find it at the other grocery store I went to today...I'll try another tomorrow. I take two a day, regardless of what I've eaten or plan to eat, and it keeps me surprisingly regular...Of course, more serious visits from the binge-monster require the big guns. That's when the blue guys make their appearance...and I make my exit, directly to the nearest bathroom. For some reason, I always figure that taking a whole sheet of those things (9 pills) is a good idea at the time. Self-punishment? I wouldn't be surprised. It seems to be a recurring theme of sorts.

Out of touch, I said. Yes. As I was driving home from K's house to go pick up the little ragamuffin from daycare, I was thinking about you guys. Yes, I'm a big huge dork and my blogger family plays a big huge role in my life. Glad that's out in the open...Pssh, like you guys didn't know already... ;)

I was thinking about how nearly a week has passed since I've been allowed/given myself the time to really sit down and catch up on all the goings on of your lives here. I've managed to catch a few posts here and there, but what I really enjoy is a huge, uninterrupted chunk of time all to myself, in peace and quiet, so that I can really devote my full attention to all of your entries, and even more so that I can comment thoroughly (I'd love to comment on each and every one!)...but alas...honestly...Where am I going to find that kind of window? When no one's around? When the little one doesn't need me? When class isn't calling, or my uncle doesn't need me to run an errand? I know...even as I type this, I know...I don't mean it to sound as if I am complaining about being needed.

That would be silly. And horrible.

But you know what I mean. At least, I hope you do.

All the same, this lack of reading and commenting on my part really bothers me, even more every day. I'll be thinking about something entirely unrelated and suddenly realize that I haven't checked in on/heard from so-and-so, and immediately I am focus-driven on getting myself online as soon as physically possible... I feel just as bad as I would if I were neglecting an old friend, leaving them wondering if I even care to make time for them...I can't stand it! So tonight I'm going to try and catch up. Go through each and every one of them. It will be difficult. It will be inspiring, and saddening, and exciting, and eye-opening, and relaxing... and a great many other things, I'm sure.

I miss you guys.

...

On another note, I had a mini-binge tonight. Approximately 400 calories. Putting me at 670 for the day (net) after a run/jog/walk that burned a neat little 450 calories (and left both my already vulnerable knees swollen and aching!). Still. I could have done without the binge, which would have left me at less than 300 for the day, total!!! That's unheard of for me. Ah well. Tomorrow is another chance. Heh...I just realized that it's much easier to tell myself "tomorrow is another day to try again" if I haven't gone over my intake limit (today was 800). Had I binged like I wanted to, and let myself go, I may have exceeded 2,000...I know that saying "oh well, try harder tomorrow" would have been a hell of a lot more difficult, were that the case. Huh. Interesting.

K and I went to Whole Foods today (holyfuckingshitonawholewheatbiscuit, that was TORTURE and PARADISE all at the same effing time!) to look for shirataki Miracle Noodles (my supply's getting low and I don't wanna have to pay $12 shipping each time!)...They didn't have the Miracle Noodle (zero cal) brand, but they did have tofu shirataki, so I bought that. 40 calories per bag. Doable. While we were there, I picked up some fresh veggies and fruit and mushrooms, and proceeded to eat all of them in the car on the way home. No biggie, I knew at that point that I was at 167 calories for the day. Yes. I love that freedom. Nomnomnom.

I can't wait for Monday. Weigh day. Two days in a row under 900, many more to come. Tomorrow...hm. I've gotta decide tonight what tomorrow's menu will be. I've been doing that as of late and it's working GREAT. I used to simply eat as little as possible, tracking my calories as I went, but often becoming discouraged and giving up after bingeing or eating something with no nutrition info. Recipe for failure. Not anymore. :D Now I plan out the next day's menu, leaving nothing to chance. Breaking it up into breakfast, post-workout snack, lunch, snack, and dinner, I build a plan around my calorie limit (either 800, 900, or 1,000...this may decrease as time goes on). After it's all set up, I save it to my computer and write it down as well, keeping it on my person or in my wallet all day long.

NO EXCEPTIONS ALLOWED. I do not deviate from this preordained menu. I simply am not allowed to. I know that I've always, in my head, battled the urge to binge by repeating that old, worn-out reprimand: "You can NOT binge, do NOT do it, you will be so angry with yourself if you do, you'll be a total fuck-up and a fatass forever..." but somehow, as we've seen, this isn't very effective. I guess if it's on paper, right there in front of me, it's easier to follow. Regardless of the reason, this WORKS. Just so long as I don't let myself get TOO far gone...too hungry, too dizzy. Even if it means I have to sit down, have a peach, and drink a few cups of tea to get rid of the tracers behind my eyes, I have to give myself that time to come back...can't get too close to that brink. You know the one. The one where your body takes over and says, "Fuck you, I'm starving, I'm going to MAKE us eat..." Nope. Can't let it get there. When I plan my menu the night before, I try to take all of this into consideration, and plan accordingly. If I had a hard time with the dizziness or fatigue around, say, 3 PM, then I'll make sure my menu includes some fresh fruit and a slice of whole wheat toast around that time. Little pick me up. :D Problem averted.

I'm still working on this, but I kind of like it. It's a challenge, it's a science, and it's rewarding. Good stuff.

Oh, and I ordered some Topamax. Yeah. That's a side note when it should be a paragraph of its own, but I have blogs to read!! Muy importante!

I feel like taking a picture for you guys. :) One sec.



Hey, it's me and the only bone that loves me faithfully... Good ol' Collie. Yes. Like a dog. Loyal. Shows up even when I'm fat. Love.

Oh, and I'm painting this thing for a good friend of mine (began as a texting ana buddy, but now we're like sisters! Just separated by half a country... :P). Here's the beginning of it. It's a surprise, though, so don't tell! ;)



Long post, eh? Yeah. I'm leaving. I love you all dearly!!! THIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIiiiiiiIIIIIIssssSSSS much!!! And infinity times more.

<3

Back on track...Let's keep this going, shall we?

Today has been wonderful.

I say this as of 11:07 AM, but I'm hoping it will still be true as I end the day as well. We shall see.

My intake so far has consisted of oatmeal, three fat-free saltine crackers (for something crunchy!) egg whites with sauteed zucchini, tomatoes, and onions (only about 60 calories for the most incredibly tasty after-workout protein boost ever!) and two prunes (Cherry Essence something or other...AMAZINGly delicious and a much more natural way to keep yourself regular than our oh-so-beloved Ex-Lax).. Not that I don't stay true to the little blue guys, as well, but these help immensely without all the nasty side effects. Yay, fruit! Big fan.

Grand total for midday: 287
Workout burned: 270

Yes. I am happy.

I have not weighed myself, and I shall not. Not until Monday of next week. I'm going to try and stay true to the once-a-week thing, as I find that I'm far less depressed in my every day life if I DON'T know that number, if it's NOT hanging over my head every minute of every hour of my existence. I have enough numbers swimming through my brain as it is, and I don't seem to miss *that* one all that much, just so long as I get to see it once a week. It's odd, I know. But so far, it's working. Gotta stick to what works, right?

Today is a 900 calorie day. That's my ceiling, again. I would certainly be happy with less, but I want to give myself enough leeway at this point to make a few mistakes without totally ruining myself; if I have a lapse in judgement and happen to go over an intake ceiling of, say, 500, then I much, MUCH more likely to say fuck it all and binge out of sheer disappointment. But if my number is set at something a teensy bit higher, at least for now, then I have room for a little c/s (I know, it's horrible, but I'm not quite ready to give it up yet) and I won't be killing myself by 4 PM over the fact that I failed. Does any of that make sense? I hope so.

Last night, as I fell asleep with a growling tummy (love that! Oh, how I've missed it!), I thought about how the top of my blog says that yes, this is a pro-ana site. Then I thought about how lately, it doesn't seem that it is. I mean, I've been hating on my disordered eating habits and depression because all they do is cause me pain. I've been avoiding taking control of them because then I feel unhealthy...I should be *fighting* this, not relishing it... Right? I mean, that's what the world will tell you. That's what my therapist, and uncle (who is a therapist), and society will tell you. It is not *natural* to use this to my advantage; no, instead I should be trying to get "better," striving for the happiness and freedom that only comes with the acquisition of that elusive notion we call Recovery.

*sigh...* Maybe I'm a fake. I'm sure we all feel that way sometimes. I know I'm disordered. So does my shrink. But I'm a disordered woman who rides a fence, daily, teetering back and forth between a world of secrets and shadows and perceived "safety"...and a world unknown, full of promises of long life and happiness and freedom to eat and live as I please... That doesn't exist. That utopia, that supposed paradise where your mind is liberated rather than shackled... It's impossible. It feels impossible.

I am pro-ana on most days, I suppose, as I do enjoy my control, the feeling of hunger...living for the dropping numbers and dress sizes, despite the fact that I hate my disease, and find it to be the most painful obsession, the most agonizing aspect of life. Is that pro-anything? What IS that, exactly? And why must I find a label for EVERYthing? Ah...well. I grow weary of these thoughts. I'm moving on.

My tea is amazing. I mixed one bag of green tea with one yerba mate chocolatte... Yes, cocoa flavored tea!! What will they think of next? :)
I'm attempting to have at least one full cup of double-brewed tea before each meal. This should definitely reduce my intake...right? Well, not really, when the main issue at hand is not my hunger, but my insatiable craving for FOOD in my hands and in my mouth...Hunger has no place there. Eating when I am already full. THAT is the problem. That's why I'm not ana, I guess? That's why I'm EDNOS? Because my brain doesn't know what the fuck it wants, food or starvation? It wants both. Sorry, jumbled-mixed-up-indecisive-disorder, you can't have your cake (or any other food) and not eat it, too.

Ah, one more bit of something before I go...I noticed, while I was enjoying...yes, enjoying!...my delectable low-cal protein-filled egg white concoction, that my stomach is *literally* no longer able to differentiate between the signals "full" and "still hungry." Yeah. I had just eaten an entire bowl of very satisfying veggie/egg stuff, and judging by the size of the portion itself, my stomach *definitely* was full. It was pretty large. But as I sat there before that empty bowl, sipping my wonderful tea and staring into space (do that a lot), I found myself pulled, physically and mentally, to eat more. Just go get a piece of toast. Just one. You're still hungry. You're starving. But there was no possible way I could be. The feeling of hunger, though, was unmistakable. I took a deep breath, and another few swigs of water, and said NO. I shall blog instead. Toast shall not defeat me today. ;)

And lo and behold, all those experts are right. You wait twenty minutes, and you'll feel full. If only the binge-monster would listen to that rule...She doesn't care about that rule. She just - NOM NOM NOMs everything in sight, everything within reach, all with her little yellow earplugs in so she can't hear my voice screaming at her stop. Heh...I don't know why her earplugs are yellow. My imagination is silly sometimes.

Okay, all the time.

I've gotta run...Just realized that it's 11:30 and I haven't taken my meds yet today. Shame, shame, P.D.!! You know how shitty you feel when you skip your Wellbutrin...Ugh, hell on Earth, I tell ya what.

I love you all, muchos. I can't wait to catch up on all your blogs later...heh, I've lost count of how many I follow but it's becoming an all day affair to read them all! Worth every second.

I hope you're well...Stay lovely, my angels.

82 followers?! Holy shit, you guys..You are freakin' AWESOME.

I've been engaging in some major thinspo-stalking today...It's been incredibly inspiring and ridiculously disheartening at the same time. I'm trying to focus on the former. Duh.

I feel tired. This doesn't make sense, since I've had more sleep in the past 24 hours than I've had in...well, a long time. Hm. ANYway...

Today starts my new plan of action. The plan itself isn't necessarily new, just my taking it up and all. 900 calories today. That was the plan. I'm probably at about 900 right now, and it's 5 PM. I'm not hungry, but I'm eating an apple and a nectarine with strawberries, all cut up and covered in splenda and cinnamon and microwaved to taste like pie or cobbler. Of course, it's heavenly and healthy...but it's still a miniature fail because I'm not hungry. I'm actually full, of miracle noodles (zero cal) and I'm still eating, and a very large quantity of food at that. Yeah. That's the problem at hand. That's what needs to be addressed. I can pretend, for a while, like an actress in a role...Just restricting and keepin' on and riding the wave of internal lies til I can't stand it anymore, but really deep down dying to binge...constantly.

Or maybe that's normal. Maybe that's fine. Maybe it's not.

Maybe if I "act" successful at this long enough, I'll be successful. That makes sense...*sigh*

I'm sorry. I'm braindead. Probably doesn't make for a very interesting blog. I promise I had something awesome for you, about an hour ago, but instead I sat and painted. It's therapeutic.

Oh! I remember. So. I took some pictures today. Of myself. Ew, right? GROSS!! No, don't worry, I'm not posting them. Yet. Maybe I'll make a huge weight-loss success story before-and-after collage after I'm done (ha...that's laughable). Today I took my first "before" photos. Brutally honest photos, too, not like the ones I'd usually take for myself... These were straight up, face forward, full body-length all up in my skivvies. One from the side, one from the back (*shudder* Oh, the horror!!), and one from the front, disgustingly huge thighs touching (again) and all. I plan to take one once a week for as long as it takes to get to 110 (or 118)...haven't decided yet. Seeing as that today I'm at 138 (holyfuckingbabyjesusinascubasuit), I've got a LONG way to go. But you know what?

I'M GOING TO DO THIS!!!!

I am. For real. Do you believe in me?
<3

Second post today...hey, it's Sunday, and I'm bored.

I was playing with my computer's webcam a second ago...because playing is fun. You should try it sometime.



This is what I would look like if there were two of me and we were about to get it on.

Schmexy...

So I don't know if I've mentioned this key fact yet or not, but I just realized that I've been neglecting to address it within myself all this time, so I've probably not mentioned it whilst blogging.

All right, so you know all this binge eating bullshit I've been going through lately? The fail behavior that's resulted in my gaining back seven pounds of painstakingly burned/starved FAT?

Yeah, you know. THAT shit.

Well, I don't know if this is of any interest to you guys, but it's definitely of HUGE concern to me.

When I eat like this, I'm not even hungry.
Never.
I can't remember the last time I felt hunger.
It was probably a few days ago, but I didn't let it last...I'm sure I commenced to stuff my face immediately just as soon as those peristaltic juices began flowing...Tummy growls are good things. They mean you're doing it right. They mean you're resisting and you're strong and you're empty. Ah, lovely happy emptiness.

No, not for me. I eat. As soon as I feel it. And then it doesn't come back for days. I don't let it. I eat something as soon as I wake up, justifying in my mind the need for a good, hearty metabolism-kickin' breakfast. True, it's important. But you don't have to keep going, P.D. You don't have to have that oatmeal, then eat a bowl of cereal, then have a bowl of yogurt, and then have a banana, and then eat a peach, and then scarf a granola bar, and then go to school, daydreaming of food the whole fifteen minute drive, even though your stomach is already so painfully full that you're SURE you've reached your daily quota already, all before 10 AM.

It continues, throughout the day. I live to eat. I consume food instead of breathing. And I hardly ever purge it. When I'm not eating, I'm thinking about eating, or C&Sing...This has been my life for the past three days. And for many days prior to those, these spans of failure only separated by a few days of good restriction and healthy exercise. On and off, on and off. It's not good enough.

Never will be.

If I want to be thin badly enough, I would stop eating.

I've said this before, and yet each time I say it, it seems to mean something different to me.

Do I want to be that thin? Do I want to be emaciated, skin and bones and beautiful? I used to hold such a passion for it, like it was all that mattered. And I was well on my way. Then, to use Pasco's term for what I feel this must be, it occurred: The Mind Flip.

Something switched in my mind, and I didn't ask for it, and I can't go back. I can't go back to blissful disarray, disordered and loving it. Oh, wouldn't that be nice?

Last night my labret stud came out in my mouth and it's not supposed to, not yet. It's not done healing, and it kinda freaked me out. It's been developing scar tissue inside, not out, very slowly but pretty consistently. I've been doctoring it the way my piercer suggested, and while I think that's working, I'm sure random purging and regular C&Sing doesn't help at all.
Anyway, so the stud came out. I rushed to the bathroom mirror (my arch nemesis...fancy seein' YOU here) and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash, attempting to press the jewelry back through the tiny little hole in my lip.
It wouldn't go through.
What? No no no no...This can't be happening, not at 9 at night...I've had so many problems with this thing already...
Managed to get it fall through the entry hole on the inside...but it wouldn't come through the hole in the front. I pressed harder, causing pain now, but certain that it would go through eventually. It didn't. I could see the metal trying to push through my skin, like some kind of alien creature...it was kind of sickening. It started bleeding beneath the skin, and the pain was unbearable. Being the girl girl that I am, seeing that stud swimming just under the surface of my transparent, now bloody, skin, I nearly passed out. I felt a wave of heat and nausea wash over me and everything went kind of tunnelly for a second. Ha, and being me, of course, I thought for a millisecond: "Ah, that's what it used to feel like when I would starve..."

K drove me downtown to the shop and I had my girl re-pierce it. Excruciating. Hurt ten times as much as the initial piercing. At least it's back in place. Geez. Life's unexpected little pleasures, huh?

I'm sorry I'm rambly. I can't think. I've got a ton of distraction swirling about me and around me, and I'm feeling claustrophobic in my own body. A three year old is banging her little blonde head against my shoulder as I type, telling me that this particular episode of Dora the Explorer is boring, she wants the one with pirate piggies. Her mess all over the floor of my boyfriend's apartment stresses me out FOR him. He doesn't need all this. The kitchen is a mess from my cooking experiment (which turned out in-fucking-credible, I will add) and from cinnamon rolls this morning (disaster for my ass).

At least it's Spring Break.

I will NOT be donning a bikini like more than half the female population of my university this week...No, no, please...No.

I need to...figure out why I don't care to try anymore. Why I'm jaded. Why I could very well be up on my feet and exercising (through excruciating pain in both knees and one ankle) but instead I'm sitting here in self-deprecation, on my ass...Not moving = not burning calories. Sure, I ran today. One measly mile. Walked another. It feels like it did nothing.

Some days, I am so strong.

Others...

I am me.

<3

On my way back up...and that's hardly ever a good thing.

Weighing myself this morning, I desperately tried to recall when it was that I finally broke my 140 plateau. Four months ago, maybe? Five? Or less? I'm clueless. All I know is that I'm edging dangerously closer, every day, to hitting it again, but from the opposite direction.

I was so close to those 120s at one point. Now look at me. (Actually, don't, because it will probably make me very uncomfortable and I may just cry a little)...

138.6.

As I type that number, I feel...stupid. I feel a thousand eyes gazing upon me, set in faces of pale, unforgiving stone, all smirks of condescension and grimaces of disgust. "You've no one to blame but yourself, you know. You fucking do this to yourself."

It doesn't feel like I do. It feels like I've been victimized, violated, raped. Every day I exist I'm thrown viciously into a dank cellar and closed up with no hope for escape. The darkness is nearly complete, only a single ray of light is afforded me from above...and this is only for my own torture, you see, for my hellish prison is walled with mirrors, everywhere you look, the ceiling, the floor, all of it cracked and distorted and telling me exactly what I want to hear, somewhere deep down, and exactly what I will one day learn to ignore... You're a failure. You are disgusting. You have no self-control and no concept of self and so therefore you are lost...and you deserve to be lost...out of sight...

I must do something. I must change this. It's so so SO much more than deciding one day to stop eating. Be in control. Just care for yourself enough to make yourself thin, you know how to do it. You know what it takes...

It's more than that.

It's the battle. It's the disordered side fighting for its life against the side everyone else wants to win...I have cheerleaders who spur me on to be the best me I can be...and I love that. But I know that I will not succeed in this until I am happy with who I am, away from this wretched body.

And I am so far from that.

I need to force myself to go work out. My knees are killing me. But the fat is killing me faster.

Love you all.
<3

Spring Break is here...

To ensure that I felt less ugly today than I did yesterday (as I was determined to at least TRY) I did my eyeshadow extra awesomely. ;) You wanna see? You don't? Okay, here goes...don't look!



Guess you really can't see the little nuances of blue and yellow there, but oh well...I like it.

My head's all out of whack and my thoughts are rather disjointed, so please excuse the randomness of my nonsense. Thank you. ;)

I tripped into Bloggerdom today for a very different reason than I normally come...I need grounding.

I need to feel safe and find something familiar and remind myself of that lovely reality I so often forget: I am not alone in this. This is the only place I've found thusfar that offers me these things.

I've spent the day eating, much as I did yesterday and the day before. But today was different, somehow. Perhaps it's because I weighed myself for the first time in 6 days. Big mistake.

As the sun made its way into my room this morning, slanting its rays through reluctant blinds, my eyes remained closed... blissfully ignorant to a Saturday morning I wish wasn't here yet. I allowed my hands to make their daily trip down the sides of my torso and internally winced at what they found there. A good part of me was actually disillusioned enough to believe, in that one dawn-drenched moment of dissipating dreams, that perhaps the past month's failures were simply that...nightmares, imagined...easy to escape? The softness of supple flesh where hips should protrude tells the truth. First long sigh of the day...to be joined by plenty more, I was sure.

The little one ambled over in pink Dora PJs and woke me from my reverie, advising me that she had to go potty, at which point she began randomly crying and fussing incessantly for no apparent reason. A few minutes of playing a game I've dubbed "Figure Out What B is Thinking/Tickle Little B Because That Always Works" and the tears were gone, replaced by that brilliant smile and a hearty little laugh that can't ever quite remember that discontent existed at all.

Ah, childhood. I often long for that attention span, or lack thereof. To turn off my mind and its eternal chaotic tailspin of pain and anger and anxiety and worry...for just a few moments? I'd honestly pay for that.
Oh, wait...I do. That's right...
The result is usually severe dehydration and irritability in the form of a nasty hangover...and it never feels worth it.


It felt like a fasting day. At least for about a minute. Then the healthy voice butted in and reminded me that fasting is not okay, nor is it a quick remedy for previous days of bingeing. My tongue flicked up to the roof of my mouth and this time my wince was visible; my nearly constant C&Sing has begun to make its mark on me physically...the sores behind my two front teeth haven't healed and we're going on two or so weeks by now. I suppose they're a little better today, but my teeth are still killing me. Even when I eat normally now (read: with intent to swallow for nourishment) my molars and top incisors ache and pulse with the pain of overuse. Is it worth it? No. It never is.

Doesn't mean I'm going to stop. I honestly feel I have no choice in the matter. (Of course I do, somewhere... Somewhere, I am still human, and so therefore I have a choice. In theory.)

No fasting day for me. One well-meaning bowl of oatmeal turned to two, and then of course B didn't finish hers, and I can't fucking see unfinished food ANYwhere without feeling the ridiculously overwhelming compulsion to dispose of it via my fat face... Sorry. Negativity breeds contempt, and I'm thinking I could use a hefty dose of it. Self-loathing always worked much more effectively than accepting my failures and looking forward to a "new start" tomorrow...Ugh, I don't know. Sorry, again...I'm mixed up today, and not really following a coherent sequence of thoughts or events. Kudos to you for sticking with me through it. Seriously.

So I decided this afternoon, after about 1200 calories of I-give-up-AGAIN-because-today-is-obviously-not-a-restriction-day binge food, to say FUCK OFF to the healthy voice. That voice (she is my own, she's not ANY 'she' and I know this, but shit, it feels better to personify it, so deal) has been the influence behind every one of my meals, and it's only rarely now that ANY meal doesn't immediately take the turn for Bingeville... I can't eat without bingeing. I can't. It's horrible. But given the option, of course, I choose thin. So I figured screw that voice. That's the voice that says, "Have you had enough protein today? Maybe you should have some eggwhites before bed.." and "You're dizzy because you're low on carbs and sugars...Have some bread." And I've listened. And it's not wrong. It's absolutely right. If I could have that slice of bread and walk away without leaving an empty bread bag behind me, then I'd be fine. If I could have just a few bites of eggwhites instead of moving on to the peanut butter and cereal and granola bars and cookies because shit, I JUST ATE AT 10 PM! so the world must be ending...then that would be fine. But since I can't...well, I figured I'd say screw it and try starving again. God, it would feel so good. Wouldn't it? Just to let go and let myself starve, eat as little as I pleased, paying no mind to how much calcium or magnesium or iron I was getting in my daily intake...I could be thin in no time. Right?

*sigh...*

It's really hard being a health-conscious semi-responsible eating-disordered single mother with a future to consider...I mean, honestly...if I could just get myself to live in this moment now and in the next moment in a few minutes, not eating and exercising til I felt faint and avoiding all thoughts of health and consequence because NOTHING mattered more than reaching perfection... Wouldn't that be easier?

It's never easy.

I'm sorry if this was depressing. Shit, I need to find myself already. You'd think I would have figured it all out by now. I just know that seeing 137.6 this morning nearly broke me. I did so well for a week or so...then binged it all away, and then some. My entire midsection is disgusting. I look at the way the fat spills out over my jeans and I try in vain to remember how it looked when that stomach was flat and toned and nearly free of excess... Ugh. And now? What have I become? And why is it not enough to make me stop?

Sorry. I love you all. I could promise not to write until I have something more positive to say, but that'd be a lie. I miss it too much. So instead I'll leave you with something beautiful... I wrote a villanelle for my poetry class. For the first time in a long time, the poetry that flowed from my head to my hands was lovely, and about love. It was a nice change of scenery. I'll share it with you.

On Life


We dream of love, letting go of our woes,
Wishing, but never compromising.
Standing still, we wonder where the time goes.

Pay close mind to what your love sows,
As well as the seedlings as they're rising...
We dream of love, letting go of our woes.

Life will not wait for the runner who slows;
Spend not your time romanticizing.
Standing still, we wonder where the time goes.

Memories of sun, and sand between toes
Will ever be objects of your fantasizing.
We dream of love, letting go of our woes.

Years will pass, and when your age shows
You'll long for the time to spend revising.
We dream of love letting go of our woes.
Standing, even still, we wonder where the time goes.

Hope you liked it... My first attempt at this particular form. :)

Wow. This is very long. Sorry. Umm...I love you?

Hope you're all well...I'm going to make dinner for K (cilantro garlic shrimp tacos!) and try to convince myself that I'm not going to eat any because hey, I'm not even hungry after all of the food I've eaten today!...but ultimately fail and binge on the shrimp in secret as he sits in the living room and I "clean up the kitchen"...Ha! Fucking hilarious.
But not really.

<3