Today I was 103.9 lbs. Two days ago my night weight was 107.2; the next morning I was 106.3. So over the last two days I've lost a little over three pounds. Seems like a lot, but I'm guessing most of it was fluid and/or food weight... probably a bit of both.

I want to lose weight. I don't care about the consequences. HANG the consequences. The consequences of eating and gaining weight are just as bad, if not worse. Actually, yes, they feel quite a bit worse. Especially because the treatment I'm getting is half-assed at best, because the people at the ED treatment place STILL don't know how to properly deal with borderlines, and the psychiatrist I see for DBT won't even acknowledge that my ED is a real problem, or a real diagnosis for that matter. So I'm basically doubly fucked.

I thought this was going to be truly it... the time I actually did it and recovered. But I guess it is not to be. I simply can't handle all the stupid bullshit that comes with "recovery". I honestly really do feel so much happier mood-wise now that I'm restricting again. It may not last, but at least I'll have it for awhile -- and I'll actually be thin again. I feel so, so fucking fat right now. Especially because of all the weight I gained on my boobs and stomach. YUCK.

I just want it all gone gone gone. The weight. The food. My life. Whatever. Go go get out leave me alone and never come back, because I don't want to see you anymore.