I'd have to be a fucking idiot to even consider not going to Homewood if they accept me. So why am I considering it anyway???

Well, that answer should be obvious, I guess. Clearly, I am an idiot.

I probably don't even deserve it anyway. I mean, I really did bring all this on myself.

...

I think I need to go to bed now. It's late.

Today:

- Ate; kept some in, purged at least half.
- Ate; purged again.
- Ate again; purged yet again.
- Somewhere in there I took a lukewarm-to-cold shower (our hot water heater hadn't been working right).
- After all that, what Ex-lax got absorbed before I purged for the first time started to work its "magic".
- Did I mention that I baked brownies today? No? Well, I did. They turned out a bit too spongey for my tastes, but I ate like half the pan for all that. At 85 cals a brownie. (Low-fat Splenda recipe.) Ughhhhhhh. Luckily, I got most of that out. I think.

I guess this is just what days become when you have an ED. Sad that I met up with my friend at the mall to begin my day, and had a lovely time and bought nice things, but the food shit is what stands out in my mind the most. Because I'm still worried about what few calories got into my system.

Argh.

Today my flu went from "developing" to "I think I'll slap you in the face now". My temp, the last time I took it, was 37.3; I was sweating a bit earlier, but now I just feel hot and cold at the same time -- well, and achy, stuffy, and headache-y. But that's the flu for ya I guess.

I know this is bad, but. I love the flu because I usually lose my appetite a fair bit when I get sick, and having the flu forces my metabolism to work faster because my body has to use more energy to fight the virus. Yeah... if I doubted I had an ED, I think that would cinch it. LOL.

Hope you all have a good day -- or, failing that, not a terribly atrocious day. I know it's still Christmas season, so Christmas food and leftovers are still lurking around. Stay strong, in whatever way means "strong" to you. :)

Too true...

Your Christmas is Most Like: A Very Brady Christmas

For you, it's all about sharing times with family. Even if you all get a bit cheesy at times.

What Movie Is Your Christmas Most Like?

Yeah. Going back to bed soon. :|

TMI ahead

So let's see.

Today I went to my aunt K's house and then my cousin L's house. I had Diet Pepsi at K's, and cauliflower, baby carrots, ranch dressing, and Diet Pepsi at L's house.

Later, I shat in a flood, which included visible carrot bits. A lot of them. I suspect this has to do with laxatives from last night + coffee. My butt hurts from wiping so much... but I guess that's what I get when I decide to eat Exlax before bed.

This entry contained way too much information, didn't it.

I almost want to make myself eat -- so I will be forced to purge. Or, if I don't purge, so that I will start getting depressed and hating myself and slashing myself up. So I will, eventually, try to off myself for the fifty billionth time and finally RID the world of this stupid leeching presence with my name tag stuck to the chest.

I don't want to go to Homewood. I don't want to go anywhere. I want to sit here and self-destruct until someone forcibly makes me stop. And then when they release their hold on me I want to do it again. And again. And again.

Salt (written earlier today)

Do you guys ever find you go absolutely nuts with the salt sometimes, even when you're eating salty foods? I just ate three reduced fat chicken strips (180 cals, which isn't bad, especially since it's my first food of the day), and even though three of them already have 480mg of salt I like drowned them in the salt. Haha. It tasted absolutely amazing, though. I think my electrolytes were weeping tears of joy after that. XD

(PS: This whole thing reminds me of the parts of Marya Hornbacher's book "Wasted" where she talks about how she used to drown everything in salt, such as her cans of green peas and corn...)

Eating disorders smell.

I don't know if I'm just imagining things, but I think my fingers are kinda swollen. Really hoping it's not edema-esque; but, given my diuretic and laxative usages these last couple of days, there's a distinct possibility that it could be edema.

God fucking dammit.

This is going to sound really wanna-ish, but... I wish that, if I have to have the unpleasant symptoms of an eating disorder, that I could just be thin along with it. But noooo... I have to be 107 fucking pounds (yes, I'm back up yet again). Since I'm 5'3.5", of course, I'm not even all that underweight, if in fact I qualify as underweight at all. At the same time, it is sad that this whole weight thing seems to mean so much to me. I know it's just another symptom -- but it still feels real to me, so it's hard to shake. You know?

Yeah. All this coming from a girl who's possibly entering an eating disorder treatment facility in another month or two. HAHAHA. Who else thinks I'm going to fail miserably at recovery??? *waves hands spasmatically in air*

Homewood update

So guess what?? My Homewood interview is today (Thursday) at 3 PM!!! I'm so excited. I may actually get a possible admission date sometime soon, and it won't be delayed nearly as long as I'd feared!!! I'm over the moon about this -- I really am. I had been thinking that with my luck I wouldn't even get this stupid phone interview done until mid January sometime. But now... now I can do it way soon, and have it done. That will speed up the process a lot, which I'm glad of. :)

Bulimarexia -- good or bad?

This entry is not a joke. It is ironic, and often very sarcastic, commentary about my own eating disorder, which is essentially bulimarexia at this point (technically diagnosed as EDNOS because I'm not "underweight enough" -- the fact that I've gone from 165 to 105 pounds since April means nothing, I can only suppose).

Why bulimarexia "works" for me:

~ The "hamster cheeks" are a really good way to fool people into thinking I'm not as skinny as I am -- well, at least now, when the hamster cheeks still aren't as severe as they're probably going to become, and I'm still not quite emaciated.
~ I can eat whatever I want, and I won't gain weight -- all I have to do is make sure I eat everything in one shot and puke it up after!
~ Binge/purge behaviors don't make you gain weight if you eat very seldomly, if ever, in between b/p sessions.
~ I don't have to deal with the idea of my own starvation 24/7, because binging and purging gives the illusion that I'm not starving myself.
~ I don't have to deal with the idea of being a "gross" bulimic, either, because I do, after all, have anoretic behaviors too -- and, of course, my brain tricks me into thinking that I can stop my b/p cycles anytime I want and just be anorexic.
~ I get yet another way to harm myself in the form of purging almost everything I eat -- as if self-starvation wasn't self-harm enough, right?

Why bulimarexia SUCKS

~ Not only do I get the lovely side effects of starvation and weight loss from anorexia, but I also get the dental problems, sore throats, mood swings, and electrolyte and blood pressure inbalances inherent in bulimia.
~ Bulimarexia is going to kill me a lot more quickly than restricting anorexia would. In fact, statistically speaking, bulimarexia is the deadliest of all eating disorders. So, great. I get to die even sooner than the rest of you.
~ My digestive system is going through all sorts of perverse torture, due to me not feeding it for days and then suddenly stuffing the stomach full -- and then violently expelling that food again. My poor tummy doesn't know whether to digest the food right away, digest it whenever, or just not bother digesting it at all since it's coming back up anyway.
~ Anorexia makes me weak; bulimia on top of anorexia makes me passive and aggressive, near fainting and near violence at the same time.
~ If anorexia is slowly, precariously stepping into an icy ocean, bulimarexia is like being in that ocean, then suddenly turning over into a handstand and having someone light my legs on fire. I can douse my legs anytime I want, but the constant hot and cold, and the effects from fire and ocean, do much more damage much more quickly than cold and ocean alone.


So, come on... who wants to be bulimarexic with me?!?!?!?

Today's to do list:

- Get bus at quarter to one (therefore, soon)
- Go to hospital on bus
- While waiting for psychiatrist appointment, inquire about Homewood status
- Go to psychiatrist appointment
- Bring back stamps on the way home
- Possibly go to friend's house tonight (?)

And, of course, these things are the reason why you're not getting a better update right now. :)

You know how they say coffee is a laxative? Well... it's true. And I only had half a small coffee from Tim's!!

Note to self: Severely limit your intake of coffee from now on.

:|

In an hour, if I still want to, I can walk and/or drive up to the grocery store to buy binge food. Maybe walk, since I don't really want my dad to eye the bags and wonder what the fuck I'm doing buying chips, etc, when he knows I don't eat that stuff.

Oh my.

Today's weight: 105. I almost don't believe my scale -- but I know it's probably at least within 0.2-0.4 lbs of being right. That makes me happy and just a wee bit scared at the same time. We'll find out when I weigh myself tomorrow if this 105 today is actually right or not...

Weighed in at 106.4 lbs today -- and that was after having consumed a large glass of Diet Pepsi. My true weight was probably more like 106. I shouldn't be so happy that I'm losing -- I know I shouldn't be -- but I am happy. And I still want to continue to lose more weight.

God. What happened to the days when restricting was actually somewhat enjoyable? When losing weight was like a fun game? I almost wish I could have them back.

However, oxymoronic as this is... now that I'm further into this disorder, and it has stopped being so fun, I am a lot more motivated to try and get better. Before, when the behaviors didn't seem serious, I did not in the least want to give them up. "There's nothing really wrong with me physically -- in fact, I needed to lose weight -- so what the fuck are you talking about?" That was my attitude then. However, I am able to see, nowadays, how excessive my concerns with weight and food and body image are -- in short, I can actually see now that I do have a problem.

I'm still not able to change the behaviors on my own, but that is, hopefully, where Homewood will come in. I still have to have a final phone interview before they'll even review my application, so this is probably going to take a lot longer than I imagined; however, I almost like that I have more time. Or, to be more exact, the eating disordered part of me likes that I have more time. More time to restrict and b/p and continue to lose weight. Ugh. (Sometimes I really do wish that part of me would leave me the fuck alone.) All this, of course, is just more proof that I need to be there. Which is another fact that I don't always believe... but I try to make myself believe it as much as I can, because, ironically, it's the eating disorder itself telling me that I don't really have a problem!!!

Even when I say all this, though, the eating disorder still exists. And I'm still happy about that 106 fucking pounds. *hits self repeatedly on head with a foam baseball bat*

So I went to the dentist today. Long story short: My teeth are terrible. I have eight cavities, at least one in each quadrant of my mouth, so now I get to go back four times over the course of January to get them all filled. Not only that, but my teeth are terribly sensitive -- the hygenist had to use some weird water spray to clean my teeth because the metal instrument hurt me too much --, I have a lot of plaque buildup, and the stains on my teeth are getting worse. Just fucking wonderful, hey?

Thank you, eating disorder, for helping to form eight new cavities in my teeth in the last six or seven months!!!!! [/SARCASM]

These days I have a very limited list of safe foods:

- Veggies with (minimal amounts of) fat-free ranch sauce
- Some fruits (but I usually only eat half of it and throw the rest away)
- Egg whites; 2 at a time
- Tiny amounts of lean chicken and/or 2-3 reduced-fat chicken strips... and I don't even have this often
- Fat-free barbecue chicken slices
- Danone Silhouette fat-free yogurt (40 cals for a full carton, and I don't usually finish a full carton in a sitting ANYway)
- 35-50 cal portions of random foods (very occasionally)
- Diet Pepsi / Diet Root Beer
- Water

Yeah. I'm getting so much worse these days it's not even fit. The things on this list are the ONLY things I can eat without completely freaking out. If I eat anything other than what's on this list, I end up having a b/p. The worst part? I often plan these b/ps. Save food from the family supper, etc, for a midnight-or-so binge and purge session, when everyone has gone to sleep and I can be alone to do the "dirty" deed.

So, so fucked up. :/

Goddamnit... tell my butt bones to stop hurting. :|

Haven't been to bed yet. Will go... ehh, soon. Maybe at like 8-ish, when the family finally leaves for school/work. Will sleep maybe till 12, and then will have to get up and take a shower before I go to my dentist appointment at 2:40. (Gotta get the bus at quarter to two.)

My hands are stiff, my fingers cold. Nails aren't purple at the moment, though, so I guess that's a good sign, anyway.

Time marches on... time marches on

I just took my temperature, twice. The first time it said 35.1C.The second time it said 35.2.

Normal is 37C.
Hypothermic is below 35C.

Ummmmmm.

Scared?


:|

It's three o'clock in the fucking morning, and all I can think about is how I want to make a box of Kraft Dinner, eat the entire thing, and throw it all back up again. Well, okay... I'm also thinking about how cold I am. But I've been too lazy to stand up and close the door. You know, that door which is only about three feet away from me.

Yeah. I am fucking pathetic. *sigh*

Okay... now I really know I need a new battery for my scale. I got three different weights today, and each weight displayed at least 2-3 times in a row. So like... which one do I believe??? I recorded 106.8, which was the highest one; I wish I could believe the 106.4 or 106.2 were right, but my pessimism tells me the highest weight is right. Plus, I didn't think it was possible that I could have lost weight from yesterday, given that I b/ped twice. Bodies are very strange sometimes, I guess. And, well, I have been exercising a bit, and standing up a lot. Maybe that has something to do with it.

Last night I was in a very... vitriolic... mood. O.o. I am pretty certain that if Homewood accepts me now, though, I won't say no -- I think I'd have to be completely out of my fucking mind to refuse such a good chance at recovery. Because, for all my ranting and raving about how I don't wanna give up this disorder, how I want to keep losing weight, etc, I really don't like this ED, and I know that if it keeps going on indefinitely I am going to end up doing something drastic again. The last OD brought me far closer to death than I even realized until very recently -- and I know that if I felt as bad as that again I would have no hesitation in doing something equally harmful to myself once more. And the next time I could actually die. I could. And that scares the fucking hell out of me -- because in my heart of hearts I don't really want to die. It's just that I sometimes end up not being able to deal with my own mind, and suicide is the only way I know that would actually shut it off. And that's bad. Really really bad. :/

So yeah. If Homewood gives me the thumbs up, I probably will go. But I know that won't stop me from trying to lose as much weight as is humanly possible before I get there. I know that I won't be able to stop the ED behaviors until I get there. And you know... I can live with that, just as long as I know that eventually I will get help, that this eventually will come to an end. I can hang on if I know there's something coming in a couple of months that might help me. It's gonna take a lot of fucking work to battle those suicidal impulses, but I really think I can do it. If they accept me. If they don't -- well, I don't want to think about that, so I'm not going to. I'm just gonna cross my fingers extra tight and pray to a god I'm not sure even exists that they don't reject me. Pleasepleaseplease...

:(

Warning: This entry is extremely triggering.

You want the truth? All right. Here's the truth.

I am having serious doubts about Homewood. Mostly because I feel like there's nothing in this world that can help me. I know, I know, that's supposedly bullshit. But here's some more stuff related to this that may help explain why.

I read over the Homewood site again, and the stay is only nine weeks for non-anoretics. And since I'm not even good enough to lose enough weight to be called an anoretic, my stay will only be nine weeks, too. I mean, "only" nine weeks is relative, I guess. And probably I'm stupid for thinking that nine weeks is too short. But for some reason I could SWEAR I read that the minimum stay was 90 days, which would be three months. So I guess the contrast is getting me. It just... it adds to the hopeless feelings. Yes, that is stupid. I am just a fucking stupid idiot, okay? You're just gonna have to deal with it, because I don't know how to change it.

I want to lose weight so badly... I really do. And I know I can't do that with binging and purging -- I'm not quite stupid enough to not be aware of that fact. It's just that I start feeling extremely depressed, and then I want to eat for comfort, or something like that. And so I say, "Well, okay, you can eat, but you'll purge it out after." And so that's what I do. But then it leads to this vicious cycle where I hate myself for b/ping and that makes me depressed, which leads to more b/ping... ahgod. And I fucking HATE bulimia. HATE HATE HATE. Being bulimic, to me, is the equivalent of being a disgusting fatty who can't fucking control herself. It makes me feel inferior to everyone else, except maybe binge eaters. Bulimia is this terrible, gross, nasty, dirty, impulsive disorder. Anorexia is the clean, pure, calculated disorder that actually makes you thin. But, as I already said, I'm not even good enough to have anorexia. Instead I get stuck with this fucking EDNOS shit. EDNOS might as well not even be a real disorder. It means nothing at all. It means a hodgepodge of random symptoms, none of which 100% fit any respectable eating disorder. EDNOS is fucking bullshit. And, of course, THAT's the one I get diagnosed with.

I don't know if I even qualify for Homewood. Why? I don't know if I could honestly say that I'm not suicidal. I won't know if I can say it when I get there. I mean, okay... number one, I'm fucking borderline. Suicide ideation pretty much comes with borderline personality disorder. Do they really expect me to get up there and suddenly magically not have any suicidal thoughts at all? I think they do. And I can't fulfill that expectation, so I may be pinning my hopes on this program for nothing, because I'll get up there and say I still think about suicide and they'll say, "Oh... that's too bad. So how soon can you take a flight home?" Waste of my parents' money for the flight up. Waste of my time. Waste of my hope. Waste of a fucking stupid idea that maybe some half decent facility can ever help me get better.

Fact is, it doesn't seem like anyone really wants me to get better. I'm being given the runaround here. Two to three months before I'll even fly up to Homewood, and in the intervening time... what? Therapy that doesn't even fucking work?? That's why I'm GOing to Homewood -- because what I'm doing treatment-wise in my life right now DOESN'T BLOODY WORK.

And why are they sending me to Homewood in the first place? Because they don't know how the fuck else to help me. I'm pretty much convinced of this now. Borderline personality disorder, which is my real disorder (well, it IS), is so hard and time-consuming to treat. And for someone like me, who doesn't respond to that bullshit therapy they call CBT, they just don't know what the fuck else to do with me, because they do therapy now to be timely and efficient instead of to actually fix the fucking disorders. So at the first signs of a diagnosis there is actually a time-constrained, "good" program for (aka the eating disorder), they're very willing to slap me into some inpatient facility on the mainland, because maybe they can treat the eating disorder and I'll get magically better, and then suddenly I won't be borderline anymore!!!!!!

Jesus fucking christ. I am so sick of this shit. It's like they're willing to send me to anything at all that will just get me out of their fucking hair. I'm too much trouble. Too chaotic. Too unstable. No one wants to deal with the fucking borderline girl. Let's treat her eating disorder and hope that somehow becomes the magic cure-all for her problems. OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO GO FUCKING INSANE HERE.

So I feel completely invalidated, uncared for, depressed, bulimic, and FAT. GOD do I ever feel fucking FAT. I might as well weigh 400 fucking pounds. And I can't even lose any fucking weight to stop feeling so fucking FAT because I keep BINGING and PURGING because I'm a goddamned fatty disgusting BULIMIC whose real diagnosis is not even a real fucking DIAGNOSIS.

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

Today's weigh-in on my admittedly shitty scale has me at 107.2 pounds. Which, as some of you may remember, is roughly where I was in late October, early November. I'm way too thankful that I haven't really gained any weight since then -- not that stayed on anyhow.

My teeth are shit now. I really need to brush them. I'm not even going to tell you how long I've gone without brushing now, because it's really gross, but suffice it to say that there's plenty of plaque on them. Eww. :(

I find myself making a lot of lists lately because I keep remembering things I need to do and then forgetting them temporarily. Writing them all down in list format enables me to keep them all current and forward in my head, so I will actually complete them instead of flitting aimlessly from task to task, as I have been doing lately. I'm still not sure why my memory is screwed up like this. Hypochondriacal me says that maybe the drugs did some sort of irreparable neurological damage. Logical me says that maybe I was able to concentrate more when I was on the Effexor, since that's one of the things it can help with, in both depression and anxiety disorders. I don't know which one to believe. The hypochondriacal side, extreme as it is, has its own basis in logic. And... bah, I dunno. I'm fucked up.

I keep ignoring this entry, so I'm just gonna end here and post this now. That would be that inability to concentrate for extended periods coming back again. Oy. Anyway... later.

This is the story of a girl

Here is the story of my first two days in hospital, as told to a friend of mine over AIM. Screennames and hospital names have been changed to protect privacy.

Xx a friend xX: what exactly happened the night you left? Does everyone know about your ED now?
Niika-gal: well okay
Niika-gal: the night i went, i was having a really bad night
Niika-gal: i was fed up with starving and puking and being depressed and hating my life and no one helping me
Niika-gal: i really honestly didn't care what happened to me
Niika-gal: that's probably the most truly suicidal night i've had
Niika-gal: to make a long story short: parents came in, i hinted, they left
Niika-gal: well, mom came in first. i hinted, she left, then dad came down
Niika-gal: i told him basically that i was going to, after he heckled me. then he left, saying he was calling the cops.
Niika-gal: so after he left i got panicked -- i was NOT going to the hospital without doing something. which is bad i know
Niika-gal: so then i took all my effexor and a few seroquel and a few ativan and a few gravol
Niika-gal: i finished that like 10 or 15 minutes before the police officer even got there
Niika-gal: so she asked me a few questions and i was standing there completely embarrassed that there was this police officer, uniform all pressed and smelling like soap, looking at me sullen and quiet in my pyjamas in my messy room
Niika-gal: but she told me in the end that either i could let her call me an ambulance or she would have to drive me to the hospital
Niika-gal: so i said she could call the ambulance -- i didn't care
Niika-gal: it was the difference between going voluntarily and being forced. and, anyway, i really DIDN'T care.
Niika-gal: so i went in the ambulance to hosp. he was gonna put an IV in me but then he was like, "you can refuse the IV if you want to". of course, who WOULDN'T refuse it after that?
Niika-gal: so they didn't put that in till i got to hospital
Xx a friend xX: allright.
Xx a friend xX: i would have done the same thing
Xx a friend xX: lo
Xx a friend xX: l
Niika-gal: haha
Niika-gal: i was like, "well, if he's not gonna make me, i'm not fuckin takin it"
Niika-gal: :P
Xx a friend xX: haha
Xx a friend xX: yeah
Niika-gal: so i got to the hospital and they put the IV in my arm. i still didn't want that water in my blood, diluting the drug and negating the effects, so i kept it shut unless a nurse was looking directly at the drip
Niika-gal: they put it in my elbow, which made it super easy
Niika-gal: all i had to do was bend my arm
Niika-gal: doing it when the lead is in your wrist is trickier, since ya gotta put your arms under the blankets ("it's so cold in here!" ") and manually pinch it shut
Niika-gal: so yeah
Niika-gal: i did that for awhile.
Niika-gal: barely got any fluids into me, which made me happy
Niika-gal: and then -- get this -- they come with this bottle of charcoal
Niika-gal: with a straw
Xx a friend xX: ugh. i hat ethat.
Niika-gal: and then they stand there trying to get me to drink it
Xx a friend xX: i've had enough experience with that.
Niika-gal: yeah... it looked fucking NASTY
Niika-gal: i was really honestly revolted by the idea of drinking that shit
Niika-gal: and they were like "if you don't drink it we're gonna have to put a tube down your nose and do it that way"
Niika-gal: so i kept like... putting it to my lips but being unwilling to drink it
Niika-gal: after like 5 or 10 minutes of standing there, the nurse says, "i'll give you 15 minutes to work on it" and i was like "okay"
Niika-gal: so she left and I... well, at first i just didn't drink it
Niika-gal: then i got craftier
Niika-gal: see, they have these trays, where they put your food or whatever
Niika-gal: and underneath is a tray you can pull out -- and it's pitch black, and shadowed
Niika-gal: so what i did was i put my thumb on top of the straw a few times and when no one was looking i poured charcoal in the tray
Xx a friend xX: hahaha
Niika-gal: so that when they came back the bottle would be lighter, you know
Xx a friend xX: oh man
Niika-gal: and i accidentally got it on the floor and on my fingers, and i was like... FUCK
Niika-gal: but then when the nurse came by it had been awhile and i had laid the bottle on that tray. so i was like "yeah, i spilled some" as soon as she looked at the floor
Niika-gal: O:-)
Xx a friend xX: wow.
Xx a friend xX: lol
Niika-gal: hahaha
Niika-gal: she believed me too.
Niika-gal: i am a really fucking good liar when i wanna be.
Niika-gal: but anyway
Niika-gal: they didn't keep me for very long at all, after that
Niika-gal: i'd say within a few hours they took theIV out of my arm and sent me in a cab to the mental hospital
Niika-gal: so i spent about the first ten or eleven hours of thursday at methodist, in the holding beds (the short stay unit was full)
Niika-gal: oh, i forgot to mention that someone from psychiatry came down during that stay at the hosp
Niika-gal: asked why i did it, etc. but didn't ask much else, which surprised me...
Niika-gal: so okay.
Niika-gal: so at somewhere around 10:30 the next morning, i have a grand mal seizure.
Niika-gal: i don't remember ANYthing about it
Xx a friend xX: wow.
Niika-gal: which pisses me off to no end
Xx a friend xX: yeah
Niika-gal: but the story went like this: glennis or glennys or however you spell the nurse's name
Niika-gal: came in with my reflux pill
Niika-gal: (i don't remember any of this)
Niika-gal: and apparently i took it and everything -- so clearly i was still hearing and understanding words
Niika-gal: but then suddenly i threw up my hands and tossed the pill away
Niika-gal: the nurse said she thought i was mad or something at first... but then i fell on my side and started seizing
Niika-gal: the seizure lasted for about a minute, so she said
Niika-gal: so they called code 666 on me
Niika-gal: that's the one they use for medical emergency
Niika-gal: apparently a whole lot of doctors were all around me -- i don't remember this either
Niika-gal: they stuck a valium IV in me, then transported me by ambulance back to the general hospital
Niika-gal: all i remember is waking up in the ER and thinking "why am i on the other side of the ER?"
Niika-gal: and someone told me i'd had a seizure, and i was like, "oooookay..."
Niika-gal: it was funny -- i actually had to ask if my time at methodist thursday morning was a dream
Niika-gal: because i couldn't remember
Niika-gal: i had thought it was a bit too clear to be a dream, but i wasn't sure for all that
Xx a friend xX: yeah
Niika-gal: so anyway, they did all these weird random tests on me and shit
Niika-gal: eventually concluding that it was the OD that had caused the seizure (i didn't need a fucking doctor to tell me THAT)
Xx a friend xX: haha
Niika-gal: what was funny was that they asked me this set of questions... you know, like what day is it, where are you, what's the year, etc... and i couldn't remember what month it was at first
Niika-gal: like i seriously thought it was march or april
Niika-gal: haha
Niika-gal: but after they told me it was november i remembered
Xx a friend xX: ah
Xx a friend xX: yeah
Xx a friend xX: that's weird.
Niika-gal: yeah
Niika-gal: i thought so too
Niika-gal: but anyway. i went up to a medical floor for the night, and on friday early afternoon (i think it was early afternoon) they discharged me from the medical hospital and sent me back over to methodist
Niika-gal: i'd been admitted to the short stay unit since thursday but didn't actually get there till friday. haha
Xx a friend xX: hah.
Niika-gal: yeah
Niika-gal: it amused me

I'm hoooome! :D. It's funny, though -- I only got in the door about twenty minutes ago, and I'm already starting to notice about a dozen different little things that I am only now realizing contributed to my depression and hopelessness before. Some of the things I have come up with include:

-- Even though my bedroom is painted a light shade of green-blue, I really should have painted it something even lighter -- icy blue, perhaps, or maybe even a really light yellow. Reason being? My room is quite dim -- dimmer than any other room in the house. The second I walked into it I felt like I was walking into a dungeon. That's all right when I'm sleeping, but to live in... well, that's an entirely different story. My solution is that I'm gonna have to put up a bunch of those National Geographic pictures, and maybe some celeb and/or fashion pics, too. Hopefully that will brighten up the room enough that it will be fit to spend more than sleep time in.
-- Extraordinarily loud and obnoxious noises above my head in the form of my sister being an annoying 14-year-old. I had a mini epiphany about this as I realized: That's not normal behavior, even for a 14-year-old. That's being rude. And I shouldn't have to put up with that kind of bullshit -- and, in fact, I will not. I can stand her playing a bit of music above my head, but her playing with random, jarring computer sounds on full blast is NOT OKAY. You guys understand where I'm coming from, right?
-- I also realized that any conversation I have with my mother almost inevitably leads to me feeling like shit, because she and I have such completely different ways of thinking that sometimes it's like smashing my head repeatedly into a hard wall to get her to understand even simple concepts. It exhausts me and frustrates me and leaves me tired and irritable. Solution? I'm just going to avoid talking to my mother whenever possible. It is absolutely the only thing I can do. Believe me when I say I've tried every fucking thing I know to get along with this woman, and I am honestly not sure if it's even possible. And trying to squeeze myself into a mold that she will understand and accept, as I have also only recently realized, plays and has played quite a large role in the development of my mental illnesses. Well, I can't and won't try to squish and choke and restrain myself anymore for her, because it makes me far too sick when I try.
-- Spending too much time on the internet. I'm pretty sure I was, and probably still am, a true internet addict. I mean, I was literally spending at least 8-9 hours a day, every single day, on this bloody machine, whether I actually wanted to or not, and whether I actually enjoyed it or not. It started as something that I really loved and had fun with, and grew and grew until it eventually dominated my waking hours. These last two weeks at the hospital have helped me to figure out the kinds of things I like to do when I don't have a computer around. That sounds really simple and rather inane, but it's so true. I actually never knew what I liked to do with my spare time when I didn't have either social gatherings/outings or the computer to fill it up. Now that's what I call sad. That is one benefit I got out of being in a psychiatric unit, at least -- the ability to figure out how to keep myself occupied without resorting to the internet.

So yeah. Clearly, I've been doing a hell of a lot of thinking over these last two weeks spent cooped up in a mental ward. I didn't have much else to do, really... haha. But, seriously, I've managed to come to a lot of new conclusions -- healthier ones! -- and I'm glad for that. I've got a whole new outlook on just about everything, one that I never imagined I'd ever have, and I'm grateful for that. In summary, I've gained a new sense of self as well as a larger measure of hope.

It's really amazing how such a short period of time can sometimes change so much.

In The Psych Ward

Well, I was hoping to have been out by this afternoon, but things don't always go as planned, I guess. I am still doing a shitload of paperwork re: my application to Homewood, and it all still has yet to go through the final processing stages, so I'll be in here until at least tomorrow, and possibly for another day or two after that. We'll see what happens, I guess. I have standard privileges now, so I went out for my "smoke break" which all three of the nurses told me to extend from 15 minutes to half an hour so I could come up here. I love how they conspire with me... haha. ;)

Anyway, the unit itself is pretty boring, but there are several really great people down there to talk to, and people are always bringing in magazines and tabloids and newspapers and the like, so I'm not lacking for things to do. In fact, this is probably the most interesting stay I've ever had in that particular unit. Most of us know how to make our own entertainment, which definitely helps! And, of course, the fact that my parents can bring me in random odds and ends (books, notepads, Diet Pepsi) also makes it rather more comfortable. Don't get me wrong, though -- I'll be glad to get outta there. It's about a thousand times more interesting to be living a real life, let me assure you! o.o

Well, anyway, just wanted to let you know that things are okay with me for now, and Homewood stuff is moving along quite nicely, relatively speaking, so there's no need to worry or anything like that.

Write to you all again soon, I hope. :)

So.

I'm sorry if this is erratic or unorganized. I am both at the moment.

Long story somewhat short: I am typing this from the psych hospital library right now (short stay unit [SSU]). I've been admitted for a week now, and I will be in probably until next Monday or Tuesday. I REALLY hope it won't be for any longer than that!! Short term stay is not exactly the most lively or interesting place in the world. Hah.

The timeline would be something like this. Wednesday night: bit of a crisis at my house. Too many pills, a police officer at my house, an ambulance ride to the ER, a short stay there, a transfer to the SSU at the psych hospital. Thursday morning: Seizure; somewhat delayed reaction to the too many pills. I remember nothing about it -- just waking up in the ER bed, after having had a code 666 (medical emergency) called on me and being sent over, again. I stayed on a medical floor for a night, got a CT scan done Friday morning, and was medically cleared. Went back over to short term stay, where I've been ever since.

You'll be interested, and, I hope, pleased to hear that I am currently in the beginnings of the application process for Homewood, a residential treatment center located in Guelph, Ontario. Because, yes, it's going to be an admission to the eating disorders program. I'm being held here until Monday or Tuesday to finalize things on that end -- not for any other reason. They're making sure my application goes through and getting an idea about the wait period. I won't get up there until at LEAST early January; but it could be much longer than that.

I am... well, apprehensive is a good word, I guess. I suppose anybody seeking ED treatment would be. The description of the program actually rather reminds me of the Renfrew program they showed in the Thin documentary. It definitely seems like an excellent program. Airfare will have to come out of pocket, but, fortunately, the treatment will almost certainly be covered by the provincial medical care plan (and if it's not I won't be going, so yeah). I'm not sure if my insurance covers any. All I know is that I can't live with this eating disorder anymore, and Homewood seems like a really good chance to actually get better from this. So please pray for me, or keep your fingers crossed, or whatever it is that you do, because I really need this to go through, and I'm scared of what will happen if it doesn't.

I have no time to catch up on entries at the moment, and may not get to a computer again until I leave, so if anything important has happened, please do write a comment and/or link me to an entry or two.

I misses you guys. ♥

Bye-bye now.

I hate food.
I hate myself.
I hate life.
The only reason I'm not trying to kill myself right now is because I want so badly to be thin. I have to stay alive to do that.

Fuck me.
Fuck everything.

The THIN documentary

Pssst. Is there anyone here who wanted to watch the THIN documentary but couldn't, for whatever reason? Well, here's your chance! (Warning: The file is 699MB... in other words, definitely NOT dial-up friendly.)

Step 1. Download this program: http://www.utorrent.com/
Step 2. Install the program.
Step 3. Go to this link to download the video: http://tvrss.net/search/index.php?show_name=Thin&show_name_exact=true

^_____^

I always waver on the recovery front. Part of me always wants to recover and part of me is hellbent on destroying myself. Each part is so extreme that I can't at all balance any portion of them to get a grey area, and it's why I always have to flip to either one or the other. Right now I'm getting sucked back into the part that wants to destroy myself, for no better reason than that it's interesting. Honest to god, that's the reason. It interests me to see people's reactions, my body's reactions, how far I can push everything. What kind of a fucking person am I?? I'm no person at all. I'm despicable and terrible and I deserve everything I do to myself. And that attitude, of course, furthers my desire to implode.

I don't know. I don't know if I want recovery. I don't know if I could have it even if I wanted it. I don't know how far I've gotten myself into this -- if it's too far, now, to go back. If this coping mechanism is so entrenched that taking it away from me will result in me doing far worse things to myself than simply restricting. When I started my new job (which I have since quit), I was unable to do anything but eat somewhat normal portions through the day. How did I react? I started getting the urges to carve myself up again, and I actually began to do it. My mood plummeted. I started planning my own suicide, really truly meaning to do it. Suicide just because I couldn't control my fucking food! I mean, if it was you, would you rather be restricting or be dead??

Basically, I'm terrified of what will happen if I give this up. And I'm terrified of what's already happened the time or two that I've attempted, or been forced, to give this up. And it makes me think that this may never, ever have an end, except in death somehow caused by either one of my disorders or their side effects (I would consider suicide a part of borderline personality disorder rather than a side effect, for the record). And that is the most terrifying thought of all. Because if I really believed there was no other way out but suicide, I would do it. And I don't want to die. I really don't.

Yeah. Umm. I should make myself go to bed and get some sleep. I'm almost certain to feel better when I wake up tomorrow. At least I sure as hell hope I will.

I'm cold from restriction, and I love it.

I wonder what other physical symptoms I'll start to get back as this continues.

I'm not dead, I swear. Far from it, actually... or so it would seem. I got the bloodwork and EKG results back, and apparently everything was normal. I am medically stable. So, yay, no involuntary hospitalizations!

I'm being referred to some psychologist who deals only with eating disordered clients, but that is probably going to take awhile to go through -- at least a few weeks to a month. Until then, well, I simply stick to what I have. It will have to do.

If I can't get mentally better, then for the love of god, please just let me make myself disappear. Let me allow myself to fade away. I can't take existing the way I am now... I just can't.

Please...

I'm going out to a bar with friends tonight to celebrate my friend's boyfriend's birthday. I have no idea what I'm going to buy when I get there, other than a drink for the birthday boy (haha). Maybe I'll just have a couple of diet drinks. Let's hope that nobody tries to make me buy wings or some other shit... I really don't want to eat when I go out. Ugh. I dunno. I s'pose I'll figure out something. Let's hope so, at least.

Ahgod. I wish "normal" stuff like going out to a bar didn't have to be so bloody difficult.

This quiz is so true that I thought I'd post it here, despite the fact that it has nothing to do with eating disorders.

Your Expression Number is 9

An idealist and humanitarian, you strive to make the world a better place. You do your best when you follow your feelings and sense of compassion. Deep down, you dream of being loved by many. You are capable of much human understanding and have a lot to give to others. While you are very ambitious, you never lose site of perspective. You have an abundance of creative talents... you just need to tap into them. Although you are a giving person, you can become selfish if you are ignored. If you are not able to help people, you tend to shelf your talents. Without others, you become aloof and start to lack sensitivity.

What's Your Expression Number?

Today I haven't eaten too much... yet. I like that.

I've really got to try and break myself out of this b/p cycle, too. I'm pretty sure it's one of the main reasons why I'm maintaining.

Need more self-control. Hopefully, that is what I shall be able to have. I make no promises -- just an effort. Well, okay, probably many efforts, judging from past experiences.

Back to LiveJournal surfing and chatting with other EDed girls.

I cut tonight.

I'm going to try and start a juice fast tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Holy crap, guys. I've got bruises everywhere. Both my hipbones (2 on each), one of my knees (3), the front of both sides of my ribs, and one just above that knobby bone in my wrist. [Of all the random places to get bruises...] Yeah. I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, other than that I've gotten thinner. Does it mean... anemia? Lack of calcium? General weakness? What? I seriously don't know. Does anyone have any idea?

I ate 1350 cals yesterday and was disgusted with myself when I added it up. If I had just omitted the freaking two-bite brownies I'd have been down nearly 400 cals. Lesson learned: No more two-bite brownies, no matter how loudly they scream your name from your friend's living room table. They're full of fat anyway -- 22g for the four that I ate. I mean, come on. Eww. :|

My therapist diagnosed me with AN Type II, but I still don't believe her. Even though I've lost 17.6% of my body weight since I've been seeing her (minimum for diagnosis is, as we all know, 15%). Even though I've lost almost twice that percentage since this whole screwy eating disorder thing began. I still think I'm EDNOS. I'm "not skinny enough" or "good enough" for anorexia. Good enough! Since when was anorexia a good thing?! I don't know. My brain is just irritatingly inane sometimes.

Plus, that anal-retentive part of me is screaming, "You can't be anorexic till you have a BMI of 17.5!" Which is common jargon, but is not entirely true. The criteria is 15% of normal body weight. Which can be up to a BMI of 24.9. So what it means is that your body was of normal weight before, but you've lost at least 15% of that weight. It doesn't strictly mean "BMI of 17.5", although I'd argue that if you achieve a weight loss BMI of 17.5 you're probably anoretic anyway... but that's beside the point.

The point is, I have a diagnosis -- a true one, possibly -- and yet my brain can't accept it as being true. This? This isn't anorexia. Never was. Won't be unless I'm so skinny you can see all my bones without need for stretching. That's how I keep thinking of this. My brain has distorted almost beyond belief at this point. Nothing those doctors say is true. There's nothing wrong with me. I do eat normally. Didn't I eat 1350 cals yesterday and not puke? I'm normal I'm normal I'm normal.

But am I really? Am I? I can't clearly see the answer for myself, and it drives me batshit crazy. I take more and more drastic, and dangerous, methods to assure myself that I still have an eating disorder. The whole thing is fucking insane. Insanity. I am a crazy person. Nutcase. Need to be locked in a mental ward for life. I don't know. Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhh. :(

Do I need therapy? Really?? I do???

Just retook the Do I Need Therapy test, and these were my results:

Although your scores were generally quite good, you scored well outside the normal range in at least one category. This suggests that you should probably consult with a mental health professional for further testing or treatment. There is most certainly a professional out there who can help improve the symptoms you are experiencing.

The following are the areas of concern detected by the screening:

• You appear to suffer from obsessional thoughts.


• You appear to suffer from compulsive behavior.


• You appear to suffer from Panic Disorder.


• You appear to be suffering from Anorexia.


• You appear to be suffering from Bulimia.


• Your responses strongly indicate that you suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder.


• Your responses strongly indicated that you suffer from Hypochondriasis. (Yeah, that whole one question.)

The test also detected symptoms of one or more disorders that did not meet all the criteria, but that may still merit treatment.

• You have experienced symptoms of a major depressive episode, but not enough to qualify as a full-blown episode, or as major depressive disorder.


• You have experienced symptoms of a manic episode.


• Although you meet the criteria for the frequency of symptoms, your symptoms do not appear to be severe enough to meet the criteria for Bipolar disorder.


• You meet the criteria for the frequency of symptoms of Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, but your symptoms do not appear to be severe enough to meet the criteria.


• You experience some symptoms of Simple Phobia.


• You experience some symptoms of Social Phobia.


• You display some symptoms of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but you do not appear to meet the full criteria for the disorder.


• You experience some symptoms of Generalized Anxiety Disorder.


• You experience some symptoms of Panic Disorder with Agoraphobia.


• You have some symptoms of Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder, although you do not meet the full criteria for the disorder.


• You appear to suffer from some symptoms of Dependent Personality disorder.

Maybe it's bad that none of this surprises me in the least. I don't know. Is it?

Since I'm not from the US, this result is accurate!

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
Boston
The West
North Central
Philadelphia
The Northeast
The Inland North
The South
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

Off to get some bloodwork and an EKG done. Fun times. *rollseyes*

Doctor.

Nervous, anxious. Not sure what she'll make me do. Afraid of the results. Afraid to go and get the inevitable bloodwork. Fear fear fear eats me alive.

Save me from the nothing I've become

So let's see. I've been making a lot of YouTube videos lately... if you want to see them click here. Note that a lot of them are potentially quite triggering and/or depressing. But they're pretty accurate in terms of what's been going on in my life lately.

Today when I spoke with my psychologist, she wrote a letter to my family doctor. Basically, my psychologist went to an eating disorders presentation not long ago, and realized that I was supposed to be being followed by a physician to ensure my medical stability. Hence, she made it a requirement to be able to see her that I check with my family doctor about ED-related health issues.

I made the appointment as soon as I got home; it's for tomorrow at 2 PM. I'm really really nervous, especially because this doctor is actually a substitute for my normal doctor, so I have no idea what she's like. However, I'd have had to wait until Monday for an appointment with my normal GP, and I figured it wouldn't be good to make this wait that long. I want to know if anything's wrong with me now. And, I mean, it's not as if my regular doctor won't see the file once she gets back, since it's her particular substitute that will be checking me. I just hope the sub doctor is nice (the receptionist assured me that she was) and knows something about eating disorders. It's embarrassing enough going in with that stuff written on a letter the doctor has to read...

Anyway. Umm. So, clearly, I'm kinda considering recovery. I'm definitely doing what I can to keep myself medically okay -- or, at the least, hopefully not dead. Because, you know, death is bad :|. If I have to be put in a hospital due to medical instability... well, I guess there's really not much I can do about it. I could possibly, depending on the evaluation, elect to go in voluntarily. I'll know more about that when I get evaluated, I guess.

I don't know. I'm so... confused. There's so much in my head right now -- so much I want to do and so many people to talk to (online and offline) and just so much so much so much. It's all whirring through my brain, and I'm pulling at it trying to draw coherent pieces from it. It's hard. I dunno. I think the starvation is getting to my brain, too, a little bit. Oy.

Confused, symptomatic, following a prescribed outline from therapist, riding the wave, afraid, apathetic, biding my time. I can wait. I can wait.

Binging and purging constantly. Depressed. Wishing I was dead.

... yeah. That about sums it up.

I may or may not post much for awhile.

Sorry.

Laxatives gave me the shits. Twice. It was not pleasant either time.

I also purged twice tonight. The second time it was both preceded and followed by bowel movements, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I sat back down on that toilet. But I didn't. Maybe it would have been better if I had.

I'm dehydrated and tired and cranky and I never want to eat one fucking morsel of food ever again.

How am I supposed to keep living like this????

And already I stop feeling philosphical and want to starve again.

MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND, NIIKA. DO YOU WANT TO STARVE OR DON'T YOU???

Waking up hungry and, instead of ignoring it, having some Multigrain Cheerios and milk. Pleasing the stomach and getting some probably much-needed calories and nutrients, considering how weak I've been lately.

This shouldn't be such a novel concept, one would think... eating when I'm hungry. Right? But I guess that's one of the many reasons in which eating disorders suck. Food is seen as the enemy, and hunger is like the prized gem in the pit of our stomachs. Feed the hunger -- never satiate the appetite.

It's probably not hard to tell I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, hey. And having a fairly significant change in attitude yet again. Well, we'll see how long this one lasts. Chances are that in several days or weeks all of you will be able to stick your tongues out at me and say, "Haha... we knew you'd be back!"

I thought I'd repost something I just wrote to someone in a comment, because I thought it was rather illuminating regarding why I keep going with this eating disorder. The girl posted talking about wanting to get attention from her boyfriend through the eating disorder.

My ED actually has a lot to do with wanting people's attention, and affection. If I felt like I had that from people, no matter what I looked like or what I did to myself or how horrible I was, I'd not need to do any of it anymore. But that seems like too much to hope for. *sigh*

Sometimes I wish I actually thought of this eating disorder as a bad thing. However, I spend more of my time playing with the eating disorder, and enjoying how terrible it makes me feel physically -- enjoying not eating for long periods and eating very minimally when I do eat. Enjoying my own self-destruction, as I've been known to do.

It's no wonder I feel like I'm never going to get better from borderline. With a history like mine -- cutting since age fifteen, six overdoses, eight hospitalizations total, and now this -- what are the chances? I mean, honestly? It's hoping against hope.

The eating disordered already had it down pat!

I found this paragraph in an article on MSN about the tips and tricks of weighing oneself:

It's a subject of debate, but the latest research suggests it's a good idea to step on the scale every day: A new study from Brown and Duke Universities showed that 61 percent of people who weighed themselves daily stayed within 5 pounds of their starting weight, compared to just 32 percent who weighed in less often. Why? Daily monitoring helped them catch weight gain early and take counteractive steps. For best results, weigh yourself in the morning (when we tend to weigh the least) after going to the bathroom, before breakfast, and while wearing little to no clothing.

I mean, what moderate to severely eating-disordered person doesn't already know that? It's amazing to think how specified and yet extensive people's knowledge gets when they have eating disorders. We know a shitload more about food, weight, and calories than most other people in the world, aside from people who are professionals in these fields (and some of us may know just as much as them). When you think about it... that's kind of cool.

One thing's for sure: If any of us fully recover, or just dance the precarious line between ED and eating well, we'll probably be better nutritioned and in better physical shape than the majority of other people in first-world countries. Just think about that.

109.2 lbs.

Nearly froze my arse off today walking home from the grocery store (which is about ten minutes from my house). It's only 9C (48F) outside -- add wind chill and a relatively light "jacket" and you have COLD. Well, at least when you put an eating disordered kid inside the light jacket. When I got in the house my hands and ears felt just like they would if I'd been walking during a winter's day. This makes me a bit scared for what winter has in store for me. But I'll deal with that when the time comes.

I've eaten so little so far today that it ought to scare me, but it doesn't. Not really, anyway. I just know that if I force myself to eat now, I'll be silently giving myself permission to stretch my stomach even further by eating even more calories -- which I have done before, and which I do not want to do again. So I am resisting eating when I don't want to eat, even if it means eating fewer calories. Whatev'.

I'm really just going for broke right now -- it's all or nothing at this point. And y'all get to watch as I start my descent down the hill in a railway trolley, my hand not even on the brake. Soon not even I will recognize my own face, so speedy and imminent will my descent be.

Reached my STG of 110! Oh, happy day! It's funny how well starvation diets work. And by funny I mean completely obvious.



It's the chance of life
Get ready, set, fly high
Above the fear of your mind
Go for it
It's hit or miss
Too late for you to quit
You gotta show 'em how bad you really want this

Today: 110.6. Back at my lowest weight.

Must. Get. Lower.

This morning I weighed in at 110.8, my second-lowest weight EVER. I was so happy when I saw that number on the scale... and more motivated than ever, despite the fact that I'm getting slightly fed up with my stomach growling all the time. (Maybe this should be my cue to pop in a piece of gum?)

Also, I've only had 265 cals so far today, AND I kept it to about 600 yesterday.

I'm slowly but surely getting back there. And it feels good.

"Perfectionism and thinness. Organization and success. Those are the voices that I am filled with. Those are the voices that control me. Those are the voices that are always whispering [screaming] sweetly to me."

-- taken from here.

Starving For Perfection

Today was my third day in a row of purging at night, after eating shit foods in the evenings.

I swear I can practically feel it killing me every time I do it, but I still can't. Fucking. Stop.

Clearly, this is why they call it a disorder. Stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think you could escape it that easily?

It would rather be dead than fat. So I guess I must rather that, too. Only, in my heart of hearts, I wouldn't rather be dead than fat. Anything is better than dead, isn't it? But I don't even really believe I could die from this, despite my general hypochondria about everything ED-related... if that makes any sense at all. It probably doesn't.

Why am I a walking contradiction?

So today? I weighed in at 112.4. YESSSSSS. Finally I'm losing something again!!! I don't even care if it's just water weight or whatever. I loooost :D :D.

Maybe protein is the most important source of calories after all!

Skinniness gene imperils survival of the fattest

For those who might be interested... this is a preview for a documentary about eating disorders, which is due to air on November 14th.

http://people.aol.com/people/video/0,27189,1540902,00.html

One thousand calories today. Less than I've had on any other day for like... two weeks now. Absolutely, terrificially gross. I know this. But maybe it's better to get myself back into it gradually. Makes me less likely to rebel that way. I think/hope/presume/something.

I am still trying to figure out why I do this to myself. Why why why? Every bit of logic I have tells me, "You don't need to not eat. Most people in this world DO eat, you know. There's a reason food tastes good." Etc etc. But I fight it as nonsense, often. Other times I give in and eat. Is that because I'm smart or stupid? Because I'm weak or strong? Because I'm fighting or giving up -- stepping forward or stepping back -- retreating or moving ahead? I don't know anymore. I'm confused. And I never did know my own mind.

So, let's see. I have figured out that I have a protein and iron deficiency. Hence, I have started yet another new "diet plan", which includes 50g protein a day and 99 point something percent of my iron. My problem, of course, will be sticking to it. It's 750 cals a day, so it shouldn't be that hard, one would think. My problem is that when I get into the kitchen and I've already eaten something, eating something else just doesn't seem like a big deal. I stuffed an extra rice cake into me tonight. That's not so bad, as mistakes go -- only 60 calories extra -- but it's just really sad that I couldn't even stick to my goals on the FIRST DAY. Why, girl, why???

However, right now I'm kinda in depressed mode and don't want to eat (plus I feel like shit for already breaking my very carefully detailed new plan), so maybe I can last the rest of the night with nothing other than my allotted cup of Kamut Puffs, and possibly two more scrambled egg whites, if I can stand them. Hope I can do it. I am really anxious to start losing weight again. I hate being stuck at this stupid 114 pounds!! Grrrrrr...

I read this awhile ago, and thought it was so true. So I thought I'd share it with you guys. Written by an LJ user.


Bulimia is like a rollercoaster. Anorexia is like sitting on a bench at the amusement park while everyone else rides the rides.

Bulimia is plunging headfirst into the deep end, and then running out, then plunging in again. Anorexia is hanging your feet in the shallow end of the pool, too scared to go in but too scared to run out, either.

Bulimia is hitting Fast Forward followed by frantic attempts to Rewind. Anorexia is Pause.

Bulimia is fun and ferocious and horrible. Anorexia is counting calories, doing math problems and making graphs of weight-loss trends.

Bulimia is f--d and sex and life and death. Anorexia is staring at the minute hand of a clock.

Bulimia is gaining and losing 10 lbs within the space of a few hours. Anorexia is tiny increments, subtle change day by day, thigh circumfrence change measured in milimeters.

Bulimia is like creating a soap opera out of life to distract from the fact that you just can't handle living. Anorexia is making life smaller and smaller and more manageable because you just can't handle living.

582 cals today. For the love of all that is good, PLEASE don't let me eat any more food today.

In other words, if you've got anything motivating you could say or paste here, or otherwise direct me to, I'd really appreciate it... :).

850 cals so far today. I'd like to avoid going above 1000 if I can.

I actually think that lately I've been building a little muscle (not that much, but a little) and losing more inches, instead of losing weight. Reasons for this hypothesis:

1. I looked at my body in the mirror a few days ago and said, "Wow... I have a sort of athletic look to me. And I kinda... like it!" It was really bizarre.
2. This could be a result of washing/stretching, of course, but it seems like my newest jeans, the sizes 27/28 (size 3-5), are getting slightly loose on me.
3. My therapist said she thought I had been continuing to lose weight... even though my weight has been relatively stable for at least a month and a half now.

So... I really don't know. I'd like to believe it, but I'm hardly able to. I look bigger to myself these days. I'm always afraid that I'll wake up one day and not be able to get my smallest jeans on. If that happened, well, I'd completely freak the fuck out. I'm already freaking out enough because I swear I've got more fat on my body now, and my thighs are jigglier, and my stomach poofs out more -- if I gained much and/or stopped being able to fit into my clothes, we would have REAL problems.

Fuck "recovery".

I'm back.

I thought I was doing this great thing today when I made myself buy a club sandwich and large carton of chocolate milk, and then over about two hours eat and drink the whole thing. It's true that I did need the calories -- I'd been walking a lot that day, and twice had sat down, completely red in the face, full of sweat, and exhausted to a dangerous point. So I had to have some sort of substantial food -- preferably something I couldn't look up on the Internet later to check calories. I mean, it was fine... or so I thought.

Now, though, I think my intestines are getting back at me for putting such a strange type of food inside it -- a food it hasn't seen for quite awhile. I'm completely bloated and clogged up and heavy-feeling. My stomach is sticking out so far that I swear I almost look pregnant. And, worst of all, this load of water I've been drinking doesn't seem to want to help the food move through me at all.

If you've never read this before, read it now. Please.

http://www.net33.com/thin/updown.htm

My hands and feet are really cold, but I'm sweating because I'm too warm. Fucked up much? :|

Afraid of gaining. Afraid of losing. Afraid of eating. Afraid of not eating.

I hate this.

So when I eat too much, or eat a lot and don't count the calories, what do I do? Exercise compulsively. How the hell am I supposed to get better like this? Or will I ever fucking snap out of it?

I'm sorry I sound so depressed and pessimistic lately. The fact is, my mood has taken a turn for the worse, and it doesn't seem like my antidepressant is helping me all that much anymore. Plus the pdoc's got me started on a low dose of Seroquel, which serves to make me extremely groggy (and doesn't help me fall asleep any faster). Then, of course, there's the not being able to get warm, hair falling out, and hips too big for body things that are becoming issues now. Yeah. When I was blowdrying my hair today, every five or ten seconds another hair would just fall out of my scalp. It's not a lot of hair loss -- yet -- but it will become that. And my body is starting to look strange even to me. All I want is to be thinner, but I hate the way I look even at this weight, and I know I will hate it more if my weight diminishes.

I dunno. I don't know what the fuck to do anymore.

I have a cold sore in the corner of my lip, there's something unidentified and painful in the bottom of my left foot (I can't see anything, but I can feel it), and my eating disorder is starting to scare me because I'm always cold and weird-feeling now no matter how much I eat.

So how are you today? :/

I'm debating whether I should go to the doctor for a full physical. On the one hand, I'm scared that she'll find out about the eating disorder (of course she would) -- but more scared that something is seriously wrong and she's going to threaten to send me to specialists / the hospital. On the other hand, not knowing what's going on with my body unnerves me, and if something happens to me I probably won't even know what it is, let alone know what to do when it happens.

Any opinions? :/.

Hey girls (and boy!). I was doing excellently in my 200 cal day until tonight... which i don't really consider my fault at all. Certain combinations of circumstances left me depressed, angry, and sitting in a little ball on a couch as I tried to figure out what the hell to do with myself. The only thing I could think of, other than self-injury or yet another OD, was to take Ativan. Specifically, 6mg of Ativan all under the tongue at once. Didn't take too long for me to start feeling hyper -- and then, after the brief interlude of dancing-craziness-insanity, a nice sleepy calm came over me, which has been with me ever since. I must confess, I like feeling calm. It's an emotion that's rare for me lately.

But anyway... after taking the Ativan I went to my kitchen and started eating. Now, all I had was four cookies (300 cals) and a bowl of Multigrain Cheerios with milk (175-200 ish) -- well, okay, and like two Wheat Thins. I still don't feel guilty about it; but I'm sure it'll hit when I get on that scale tomorrow.

I kinda liked the ability to just enjoy a treat when on the Ativan, though. I haven't had Rainbow Chips-A-Hoy in forever, and it was nice to be able to allow myself a couple of them. It seems that when my anxiety goes away, I eat about as "normally" as it is possible for me to eat. On the other hand, this is probably my last night overloading on the Ativan, since I start 25mg of Seroquel tonight for sleep. I really hope that one works -- and maybe will have some slight mood stabilizing properties, too, even though it's such a small dose. One can hope, right?

Anyway, I'm gonna go to bed now. Already feeling pleasantly relaxed from the Ativan, so it's looking mighty tempting to pop the Seroquel now and get ready for lights out. :)

Au revoir!

I have decided to try one thing, and NOT WAVER on it: I will not drink diet soda anymore. I honestly think that diet soda is a big factor keeping me on this plateau. Lately I've really been lovin the diet soda, and I'm probably loving it too much. It always had a tendency to make me plateau... I thought that effect might go away if I drank diet soda for long enough, but I guess it didn't! And, I mean, it's not like 600-900 cals per day isn't still restricting anyway......

Okay... I just got a serious reality check. I posted my monthly weigh-in at [a LiveJournal community], and I lost a grand total of... THREE fucking pounds. Not to mention that I've gained it all BACK since my weigh-in day.

Omfg. I think I'm gonna lose it. I never realized just how little I was losing... I was ignoring my under-500 thing (doing between 600 and 1000 cal days, but mostly 600-800), thinking, "Oh, it's not a big deal." But I just realized how much of a big deal it IS. I want to lose the weight, and I want to lose it FAST.

So... opinions about what I should do? Do you think the 2468 diet would work for me? How about a juice fast, or fruit fast, or some other only-certain-foods type fast? I'm not sure I could handle a 0-cal fast right now, because I get really weak really easily from lack of nutrients, but I need SOMEthing better than what I have right now, because I have GOT to LOSE MORE.

All right. Shit is better now. I told my therapist a goodly amount of what I wrote in my last entry, and said some things I really needed to say, so I feel a bit better about the whole thing now. Translation: I haven't entirely given up hope on it yet :). Plus, psychology class was awesome -- not the lecture (which was pretty much all biology, a subject I know barely anything about), but the fact that I was on MSN and AIM chatting with people WHILE taking notes. I was just... amazed. Haha.

On the eating front, I had a few candies this morning (yeah, I know... but it was only 100 cals), and then smartly and randomly decided to go to Subway after my appointment. I had a turkey deli... and discovered that ranch and BBQ sauce go well together. Who'd have thought!? (The BBQ sauce is somewhat sweet at Subway, so that doesn't necessarily hold true for other barbecue sauces.) Then, after class, I made my dad bring me to McDonald's to get a free muffin, and I ate about 3/4ths of it. And I've just put away all the groceries Mom brought home, and some of them are beginning to look mighty appetizing.

Today I think I may make a bit of an exception food-wise, though. I'm dizzy basically every time I walk (mild -- I'm not always falling over or clutching things, but I have a weird feeling in my head like I'm kinda swaying), and I think my blood pressure is a bit low. Note the word think. Oh, yeah, and I'm starting to get a headache. Anyway, I might eat just because that deli did make me feel better, so I probably need some food to feel better, and... ughhhhhh. I dunno. Maybe maybe not. I am conflicted. Then again, aren't I always???

Sorry for the lack of caps lock in this post. I originally wrote it in another journal.

◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘

oh my. gotta go to the t soon. not really looking forward to it. not sure what i'm gonna say......

i was supposed to get in contact with my old t and see if i could set something up with her. however, she's sick right now. like, really sick. as in, sick leave for two weeks because her flu made her asthma go wacked. she's still got a week of the sick leave left, so this means i have at least one more week (this week) with the new t. i don't know what she's going to think about that, or do in today's session. i think she's finding me pretty impossible to work with, and i HATE that. the old t could always work with me on some level -- or at least, if she couldn't, she never said, "i don't know what the fuck to do with you today." i wonder if new t has any idea whatsoever how earth-shattering those words can be when said in practically every session (minus the curse words of course). like, every session being told you're hopeless and even the person who's supposed to know what the fuck to do doesn't know what to do with you. you're weird; you're tough; you're complex; you have defensive layers so high that it's a wonder you stay standing. but my old t managed to get past all that. now, not always, and not even for a full session -- but enough to get shit done. what do i do with a t who won't even try to penetrate that -- who will just sit there if i make no active attempt to break free of those walls? unfortunately, it isn't quite that easy for me. i shouldn't be having to make her trust ME... SHE should be making me trust HER enough for defenses to come down. but she isn't. she isn't.

god. i've got like five minutes left on my laptop before i have to pack up and leave to walk over to that bloody clinic to go to that bloody appointment. so what do i do? i don't know. i wish i could just run away and never face therapy again... but that's not how borderline girls get better. and if i don't get better, i die.

sometimes, though, i don't know if i'd just rather die out of it instead of trying so hard and so futilely. everywhere i go, it seems, someone wants to flatten me or trip me up or just turn my shoulders in a wrong direction. and i'm fucking sick of it. sick of the world. sick of this life. SOMEBODY let me out of this hell i'm stuck in, PLEASE?

I wish my brain would really, truly go into recovery mode. Eating disorders are so bloody demanding and temperamental and tiresome. I just want all this to go away.

Only had 9 grapes and a Wheat Thin so far today. Not bad. I mean, it will be worse as the day progresses, but not bad so far.

These last couple of days I've been eating Splenda compulsively. I just pour out handfuls and lick it up. I know it's an odd habit, but Splenda is soooo good. :D

I wish I could sleep for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever.

I love that I just ate six grapes and a rice cake, and actually felt comfortably full. And then I took all my pills with water and didn't feel like gagging. And now I'm drinking Diet Pepsi, because caffeine is teh awesome.

Things are always just so much better when I'm restricting, and not giving in to binge urges.

Everyone else is so vital and interesting and alive, and then here I am, dull and spacey and lacking in any sort of contrast or brilliancy. And who really needs a colorless drone in their lives anyway?

I've spent my day going to classes, walking to the grocery store 10 minutes from the university campus to buy razors, going back to the campus and cutting my thigh repeatedly, and purging every morsel of food I've swallowed today (except one grape this morning). I'm in an absolutely terrible state. But I don't even care. Right now I'm dehydrated and my stomach aches, and I feel like numbing myself out even further by taking some Ativan. Hell, maybe I will. I know for sure that I'm going to go for a nap in the near future.

.....................

Tired as shit, and not in the greatest of moods. Wishing I could just go back to bed -- but I can't. I missed my classes on Monday, so it is essential that I go in today, so I don't end up too far behind. But that doesn't mean I have to want to go.

I'm dehydrated already and it's not even 9:30... just fucking great. I did fill up my water bottle before I left the house, though.

Lunch will be one of the small golden delicious apples Mom bought a bag of yesterday. Other food will be... well, something, I'm sure. I'll figure it out when I get home.

Tired, dehydrated, cranky, and vaguely depressed. What a lovely way to start the day. Not that anyone actually cares what kind of mood I begin my day in... but that's all right.

Off to browse the Net some more before I drag myself to Spanish class.

Today's food:

- Cool whip, 95% fat-free, with pills (1.25 tbsp) - 10
- Half of a McDonald's blueberry muffin - 175
- One cup Cap'n Crunch Red Berry cereal with half cup 0.5% milk - 170
***purged the cereal, and got some of the muffin up, too (not sure how much)
- One small green apple - 63
- One caramel chocolate chip rice cake - 60
- One Popsicle ice pop - 35
- One Cadbury Dairy Milk Thins bar - 100
- Calcium chew (20)

Total (approx): 480

Not too bad, all things considered. I've also been exercising a bit today (some walking around campus and jogging in place at home), so hopefully all this will help me in my goals. :)

Gotta start walking to psychology in about five or ten minutes. Right now the last thing I need to be doing with psychology is learning about it... but that's okay. I'll pretend to be at least somewhat normal for an hour and fifteen minutes. Or, you know, I can just say I'm tired and proceed to space out. Maybe I'll do that one. And take some semblance of notes while I'm at it. Yeah... that's it.

I forgot to weigh myself this morning because I'm stupid. Oh well. I'll weigh myself again eventually.

I'm all depressed and shit right now. I would explain why, but I don't have the energy to explain for the third time this morning.

Here's to a day severely lacking in food.

I'm starting to feel a little better about things.

I'm starting to believe that I have enough willpower to make a limit of 500 and stick to it, if I really really fight myself. And just thinking about being able to go back to my old restriction makes me feel awesome. Being able to do this without constant, tumultuous struggle in my head may happen a bit further down the road; for how, just cutting back on calories, period, will do me. I have managed not to go above 500 today, and it makes me SO happy.

I CAN do this. I MUST. There is just no other way.

I love it when I wake up, and ten minutes later am doubled over in pain because my back muscles have decided to seize up on me excruciatingly. And I love it even more when it gets harder to breathe, and then suddenly my hands are all tingly, so I know I'm about to have a panic attack -- and then I have to make my dad get my Ativan because my muscles are still waging war on me, making it impossible for me to go downstairs for the bottle myself.

Some ibuprofen, some water, and the two Ativan I put under my tongue eventually helped my muscles to calm down as well as neatly got rid of the panic attack. However, I've decided that I'm not going to go to school today. Frankly, I think I could use the extra sleep, for my state of mind as well as for my back; it would also be nice to relax a little, if I can (ha. haha. I'm so not punny).

I just wish I wasn't all too aware of what caused these back and (lesser) diaphragm cramps. *sigh*. I just never seem to learn...

All right. Girl. You're not hungry. You just filled your belly. You have diet Pepsi if you want some caffeine for more physical energy. You have had your allottment of calories for the day -- an amount which, may I add, you survived on quite well for several months. You do not NEED to eat more. You just want to. But want isn't good enough. It's not enough of a reason to consume things. Food is necessary to a degree; but you have reached that degree for the day.

The tingling in your cheeks will go away. You don't need that stuff. You really don't. You have eaten. You're good. Things are good. So let it go -- calm it down. You're okay. Really.

NOTE: Anyone who replies to this entry telling me I should eat more if I want it, etc, is going to get an instant permaban from my journal. I do not want to debate about the validity of this entry's contents. If you want to post with support, that's fine, as it always is... but I will be severely PISSED if you try to coax me into "healthier" behaviors.

Give me another month or two and I will more than likely meet all the diagnostic criteria for bulimia nervosa.

That scares the shit out of me.

Feeling gross.
Stepped on the scale today and weighed in at 114.2. This is the highest I've been in about three weeks, at least.
I worked so hard to get down to the 111s-112s, and what did I do then? Started fucking eating myself out of house and home.
I'm also on my period, and I'm bloated and crampy, which makes me feel even more gross.
I ate too much last night, too. I went to the kitchen and started eating some Oreos (fat-reduced, but still 50 cals a cookie), and then had a fingerful of cereal... and then of course I lost my self-control altogether and had to have a large bowl of the stuff, with milk.
I know -- to any "rational" person this doesn't sound bad at all. But I ate somewhere around 850 cals yesterday, and I'm SO disappointed in myself. I was not supposed to eat more than 500, dammit!
And all this just because I started feeling a little cold, and freaked out, and knew that the only thing which would make my body temperature go up was food.

Next time, grow up and deal with it, you fucking baby.
You pathetic, fat, ugly baby.
Fatty fatty fatty.

Managed to eat just 406 cals yesterday, and did lots of walking around campus. I think that's an awesome start to my "new plans". :D

I have 190 cals with me to eat today before going home. So... wish me luck for today as well. ^_^

Well, here I am, sitting at a university computer on the first day of classes. I don't have my first class until 10, so I've got a good long while to browse/read if I care to. And then, of course, I have a break from 11-3. The same break I'll have every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the rest of the semester. I do plan to be somewhat productive during some of these breaks -- walk around campus, go to the gym, go to the mall or downtown, etc -- but today is mostly an "I-need-to-get-shit-done" day. Plus I'm wearing a skirt, and it's drizzling out, so chances are pretty good that I won't be doing too much walking outside, at least. I may still walk around campus several times, though. Just because I can, and I want to exercise at least a little. ^_^

Today all I have with me is an apple and a banana. I'd meant to make a half-sandwich or measure out some cereal instead of taking a banana, but I didn't have time before I left, so whatever I could grab was what I had to grab. But bananas are okay, anyway. I have a bit of money, because my dad gave me $20 (w00t), so I'll be able to buy a bottle of water and, later, a bottle of Diet Pepsi; I also have several pieces of gum in my purse. So I think I'm pretty much set for the day. I like it. :D

The really big thing for me is to not eat a shitload of food when I get home. Lately I've been taking in basically all of my calories between about 5 PM and 1 AM, so my body is used to that and so is my wandering mind :/. However, I am doing everything I can to try and make myself busy in the evenings. I mean, yes, the computer might work for a little while, but it won't keep me entertained forever. I did get the idea last night, though, that I can watch TV and do stuff like in-place jogging during commercials, or bleed the jogging into the show a bit if I want. The rule is that I am allowed to sit, if I want, during the actual show, but during commercials I must at least stand, but I will move unless I am utterly and completely exhausted. This will keep me interested, since I can watch programs I like, and allow me to do some mindless aerobic exercise at the same time. I'm not really sure what else I can do at home, though... anyone have any suggestions? I have danced to music a lot in the past, but I find this tiresome after very short periods of time.

I'll go check out the university's gym on a day when I'm not wearing a skirt, like possibly tomorrow. I'm gonna see what sort of cardio and/or other fitness classes they offer and when, and check out the exercise machines, and that sort of thing. I may hold off on the first workout until Friday, so I can get a feel for the place first. (AKA, I don't want to look like a lost idiot when I go in for the first time. :P) I am excited to be exercising, though -- my muscles are pitiful, and it's about time I started strengthening and building them a little bit. I'm far too flabby/loose-skinned, anyway. I need to start toning really badly.

And yeah. Umm. Shall be time for me to buy that bottle of water soon, I think. I'm really dehydrated.

And thus starts day #1 of New Plans. I just hope I'm not trying to fly too high with this one -- because I really don't want this to come crashing down. I am in desperate need of some extra discipline and time-fillers, and all this seems to fit that need so well. It had just better not backfire.

Tonight is my eat-anything-I-want night, and I'm already up to an absolutely ridiculous number of calories -- more than I've had on any day since I began restricting in mid-April. But tomorrow, with the start of school, comes restricting again, with the addition of exercise (I hope). So I am allowing myself to indulge tonight, because tomorrow I plan to start the process of losing weight, and if I have my way the method will be utterly without mercy.

Wish me luck.

Today: Went to awesome barn with a friend. Weather was gorgeous. Didn't eat too much, and everything I ate was healthy. After going to the barn I vegged out on her couch(es) and chair(s) for several hours, before having a beautiful walk home, only to discover that my parents had lit a fire in the backyard. So after sitting in firelight, star- and cloud-gazing and talking to my dad, for awhile, I came back in for my last snatches at Internet time before possibly eating a little more and then going to bed.

This has been by far the best day of my entire summer.

Fuck yeah.

life in sevenfour time

||
         wake
computeron peeweighrecord
computercomputercomputercomputercomputer
meds(eventually) food eatportioncarefully
computercomputer shouldikeepthatinohmygod
thoughtsoffoodweightcaloriesfoodcaloriesfoodfood
eat eat purgepurgepurgepurge
fatiguedizzinessrelief
checkpulseweak worryismyheartstillbeatingyesthankfulness
selfhateselfdefeat hatingfoodhatinglife
computercomputercomputercomputercomputercomputercomputercomputer
liedown lightsout thinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthink
        sleep
                   :||

Lost a bit more weight. Am far too happy about this.
Binged and purged last night, for the umpteenth time. Am far too okay with this.

I think I'm just trying to convince myself that I'm attempting to recover. Because this... is not recovery. At least I don't think it is.

This whole thing is really just confusing and wonky and strange.

It seems like all I know how to do anymore is count calories, eat way too much cereal and milk, and puke.

Clearly, I win at life. [/sarcasm]

I am trying not to feel guilty about eating today. We'll see if that works, or doesn't work. (I'm betting on the latter -- how about you?)

Purging always makes me feel better. It's like my new form of self-injury.

So great. Now I'm going to become bulimic or something. Just fucking great. *long, heavy sigh*

I keep eating extra food. Like, every fucking day. I'm not gaining anything, but I'm not losing anything, either. And it's really frustrating, and also really pissing me off. I'm so frustrated with myself, and with everything, that I actually feel like crying right now.

I can't wait till I go back to school. I can walk around for as long as I want to burn cals, AND I'll have access to a gym, which I want to go to at least twice a week. Maybe exercise will do something for me...

God, I'm pathetic. I used to be so good at this -- and now look at me. Pitiful and desperate and piggy and terrible and fat. Still fat. It's too much to ask to be tiny, apparently. Of everyone I've ever met or talked to, I am the one who most deserves to turn into a walking skeleton -- to become emaciated and weak and barely breathing -- to skip hand in hand with Death as my body decays. So why can't I do it? Why???

I feel like something inside me is going to crack open soon if I can't fix this. And I really don't know what I might do if the last barriers "saving" me break down. Or maybe... maybe that's what I need to do. Maybe I need to lose my last bit of sanity in order to starve. Maybe I need to lose all my fears and self-control, so I can finally fucking die out of it.

I just wish I knew that, if I died, someone would understand why I did it. But I'm not sure anybody would. And that's the worst part -- worse even than the dying. Alone in death as well as alone in life. Then again, I should be used to being alone by now; I've been alone for a really fucking long time. Only I'm not, and I know I never can be.

I've always wanted people to see inside me -- the real me, the part that lies far deeper down than anyone has ever fully seen. But they never have. Ever. And I can't honestly say that I believe anyone will ever want to, let alone be able to.

Well, cravings caused me to eat way too many calories for my liking this afternoon and evening (somewhere around 700). However, I burned 107 just by dancing around to songs, and may or may not burn some more later on. I hate exercise, but I couldn't stand the thought of letting that 700 calories sit without getting rid of SOME of it... and since I was way past being able to purge anything out, exercise it had to be. It was vaguely fun, though, I admit. Also, Dance Mix 95 is the shit. :D

I wonder how many calories jiggling my leg burns? Because I've been doing that all night. Ha. Probably not very many. And anyway, I have the leg jiggle going on most of the time, so it's really not burning any more calories than I normally would.

There is one good thing about my intake today, and that is that I've had a fair bit more water than I usually get. I really do have to start drinking more water on a regular basis, too. I honestly think that a fair amount of my cravings are thirst that I'm mistaking for hunger, so I'm gonna try and drink at least a couple of bottles of water a day, and have water before food if I get cravings, and see what happens. (Currently, I'm lucky if I get about two glasses of water a day. It's no wonder I'm hardly losing anything.)

Earlier tonight I thought I didn't care so much about weight loss anymore. I was wrong. I still want to lose weight.

Blah.

I'm going to be having a healthy supper tonight: Boneless, skinless chicken breast (medium), mashed potato (not sure if I'll eat that yet), green beans, and corn on the cob.

I WILL eat at least most of it. And I WILL NOT purge. To 100% secure these facts, I'm taking my daily meds with the meal. Since I can't throw up the meds, well, I'm gonna have to keep the food down too.

Besides... I stupidly tried to purge a Tim Horton's cookie half an hour after eating it, but 90% of what I got was colored water. Stupid, stupid girl. Next time just don't bloody eat the cookie -- especially when it isn't yours to begin with.