102.1. Binged last night after taking my Seroquel (because I didn't go to bed right away), but somehow I lost a pound. Maybe I can attribute it to the 4+ hours I spent standing up and/or walking around with my friend Lynn yesterday. Or maybe the eating is just going to catch up with me tomorrow instead of today. Either way... I'll take it.

I made myself a "plan" to try and lose to <90 by the date I next see my psychiatrist. So far, at least, I am at or under my "line". I have to lose 0.388 lbs a day to be at my "line", so of course I just round that up to .4. Why by the time I next see the pdoc? Because I don't feel like he takes me or my eating disorder seriously. Because I don't think he gets how bad things really are in my head. I don't think he truly understands that I can't deal. And the only way I actually seem to get his attention is if I lose weight, probably mostly because that's a symptom he doesn't necessarily hear about every day (he doesn't know much about EDs, and his specialty is inpatient bipolar and schizophrenia treatment).

And as for the losing weight itself... well, all the same reasons for that still apply anyway. It's only that my per-day and per-week weight goals have sort of become more solidified with this "plan". Even if I can only accomplish most of the weight loss, it will still be significant enough to notice... ot least I think it will. Of course, I'm probably not going to accept any "treatment" he will think he can throw at me, either. I want him to see that I mean what I say (such as when I said, "Do you think the restriction is just going to stop?") and also that I am not so easy to make better. Which he knows intellectually, but I don't think he realizes it. I think he thinks I can keep it together for the most part and that sometimes I just have crises. I want to prove him the fuck wrong. Because he IS wrong.