I am so motherfucking fat.
Also depressed.

I don't even have the energy to write anything else tonight.


I am so sick of my fucking life.

Reading over some of my oldest entries is... enlightening and horrifying all at once. I did that to myself? I did that, without having a fucking clue what I was getting myself into? I did that, unknowingly digging myself into the one of the deepest holes I've ever made for myself? It is shocking to me to watch myself visibly, unashamedly, purposefully drive myself into starvation.

I mean, maybe it's a good thing that it does horrify me now to read all that old shit. Maybe it means that in the restriction sense, at least, I am a lot further on in recovery than I sometimes think I am. (Bulimia is another issue altogether, but that's okay :|.) I wish I believed that more sometimes.

But a very small part of me... wishes I still had that. That utter certainty that what I was doing was right. The very real, very significant sense that by restricting I was joining a large community that would accept me for me, and would support and encourage me when I needed it. The knowledge that I was not alone anymore. My craving for intimacy, fulfilled in a remote, virtual way, but fulfilled nonetheless.

I just keep on hoping and hoping that someday there will be a time when all of this changes for the better. Hoping is all I can do right now, as I wait for my life to come out of stasis and finally start having some real meaning again.

If you've come here from The Bunnell Farms, please read this.

I understand that there is a person linking to my blog on his/her site, saying that I and my story are a prime example of carb addiction.

Let me make myself clear. This is a load of BULLSHIT.

I have an eating disorder. This is not merely about some physiological addiction to carbohydrates. My bulimia does not require my binges to be carbs... it can be fat, or protein, or anything else edible for that matter.

Eating disorders are also emotional and social disorders... not just biological, as this person seems to think. Entirely ceasing my carbohydrate intake won't make my emotional issues go away. Frankly, the presumption that no carbohydrates would somehow magically equal no disorder is presumptuous, insulting, and belittling. It is completely invalidating my years of suffering (from various disorders, mind you -- the problems haven't just resulted in an eating disorder), and I am extremely offended by this.

Please go somewhere else to find so-called "proof" for your theories. I refuse to be used as your scapegoat. Arsehole.

I've been trying the whole normal eating thing lately -- three balanced meals, plus a snack or two if I need it (usually one at night, and maybe a little tidbit in the afternoon) -- and it's been going surprisingly well. Only problem is that now that I'm finally, actually 100% dedicating myself to REALLY trying to eat normally, I'm getting urges to do other things. More specifically, I keep thinking about cutting, and wanting to go back to cutting, and blah blah blah.

STFU, YOU STUPID BRAIN.

The second I get rid of one bad coping mechanism, you want me to just jump to the next one? Because I'm so fucking pathetic that I can't handle any normal emotions without destroying myself?
Well, guess what. FUCK YOU.
I'm sick of giving into you. I'm sick of causing myself continual pain. I'm sick of listening to you for so long that half the time I just give in to make you stop flooding me with anxiety and depression and fear.

SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.

I don't want you anymore, so just GO THE FUCK AWAY ALREADY, YOU ASSHOLE.