Crossposted from forum.


I need to write in here before I go completely insane.

Feel like I'm hanging on by a thread. Mind trying to disconnect from itself, fly away into nothingness. I am not real in moments like this. I do not exist at all. This body is a shell, oozing some pseudo semblance of humanity. Pretending to be something they call human; but there is really nothing here at all.

I cannot deal with myself or how I am, how I feel, and it is why I turn and have turned to so many addictive behaviors over the years. Cutting. Bulimia. Starving. The occasional alcohol binges, smoking up to get oblivious, cravings for benzos and painkillers and hallucinogens. I just want to get away from this slimy, filthy, needy thing that I am, that worms and threads itself through me as the veins through my limbs and torso and brain. But I can't. I can never get away. But I can't deal, either.

I don't know what this means, or where this is going, or anything. I think I'm a little dissociated right now, partially induced by bulimia, but also partially just by my own head, by the ways it naturally wants to go when given the opportunity. And right now my brain, my consciousness, wants to be anywhere, anywhere but right here.

Fuck my fucking life. Seriously. I'm never going to learn how to do any of this shit right.

So yesterday I had some kind of... breakthrough. You can tell me after you read this if you think it's good or bad. It happened with basically no warning whatsoever, which is why I am suspicious that the Risperdal may actually have had something to do with it, though I guess I can't really know for sure.

The first thing was that I began noticing I was feeling things. A lot of things. I haven't had so many strong emotions in a long time. But the thing that was more amazing was that it didn't bother me to feel them. I could sit there and experience all these feelings -- joy, sadness, loneliness -- without feeling my usual urge to go do something about them. Once I realized this, I started thinking a little further, and realized... oh my god... I didn't feel like binging.

What the actual fuck, right? This urge to binge has been my nemesis for months, years. It seems to matter little what my weight is, except that when I'm lower in weight I get it more intensely, for obvious reasons. But yesterday I realized... thinking about it in a way that would usually trigger me into wanting to binge SO BAD... that I could actually resist the urges if I wanted to. I mean, yes, I was at school and didn't quite have access to binge food at that particular moment; but not long before that, I had been able to resist only because of lack of binge food, and suddenly I just realized I had... a choice. I had... control.

I hadn't realized just how bad this bulimia thing really was until it was suddenly gone. Until I lacked the desperate NEED to stuff food in my mouth, even when I didn't want to purge, or sometimes even when I didn't want to eat at all. I can't explain how fucking freeing this feels. It really honest to God feels like magic or something. It's crazy.

Of course, I doubt the drug because the doctor told me it would probably take a week to start seeing therapeutic effects, and I've only been on this for five nights so far. Maybe, psychologically, I've been working up to this moment, and that's why it happened. Maybe maybe maybe. But I also doubt myself, and so I will keep taking this drug. Out of fear; out of delight.

The problem, however, is also going to be the very same thing that got rid of the bulimia: the fact that I have control. Because now it seems like nothing to restrict, to lose weight, and I also feel like I am on some sort of ridiculous high doing it. I don't like the few lbs I gained, and I still have all those goal weights I never met, and I feel like I can DO this now, and it feels so fucking GREAT, so why wouldn't I do it?!?! It's almost mania-like, except that I still have that control, and people who are manic don't actually have control. (This drug is prescribed to COUNTER manic highs.) So then I thought... fasting high? But why didn't I have it before, if that's what it is? Lord knows that back in August/September I starved harder than I am starving now, and felt worse doing it. Why this better feeling now?

So... is this truly good, or actually bad, or a little of both? It confuses the hell out of me. I do think it puts me in a better position to actually recover -- I can actually control my urges to b/p, at least for now -- but what of this possibility of unleashed, non-painful anorexia? That can't possibly be a good thing, but, again, I feel like it would be FANTASTIC, and it feels fantastic... and I can no more resist this feeling right now than I could resist b/p urges before.

What an odd fucking life I have sometimes. Lol. Seriously. Does this kind of shit actually happen to other people? It's completely and utterly absurd.

So, as some of you may know, I post all the updates I've been putting here on a forum I frequent. Regarding my last post, a friend said, at the end of a fairly lengthy response:

Is there anything nice you can do for yourself - not relating to the ED at all that might lift you a little? [...] Sorry I've rambled so much.


And here are the two entries that I wrote today.


7:43 AM

Don't be sorry, R, love... I really appreciate your reply :). As for doing nice things for me, well, I'm trying to get out of the house a little more and stuff like that. I still have my novel for NaNoWriMo, although I only have about 2k words total so far (will need to write ~2400 a day to win at this point, but I'm not so concerned about winning). I went to choir last night, which I do every week, and then after I hung out with my friend and we had a good chat. Haven't seen her in far too long, so it was good!

I am also trying not to refuse meals, etc, when people offer them, or for things like formers' supper, where obviously I'd be expected to eat. I'm actually going to supper at my parents' house tonight -- we're having ribs. Of course, I'm also planning on eating very little all day so I don't gain anything, and hopefully lose. *sigh* It never ends.

Anyway, there's not exactly any need to worry about my weight atm, as I've gained :|. Yesterday I was 106.4 in the morning, and 105.4 an hour or two later; today I was 105.8. The fact that I had at least 1600-1700 calories yesterday probably did not help that very much. Oh well -- I don't intend to have that number again today. I do not want to be this weight. More incentive to get the b/ping under control, I suppose, as I know basically all the weight gain came from the binging, and/or some possible residual edema. I feel much better edema-wise today, though, so I'm not convinced I'm actually retaining a ton of fluid at this point. But I guess you never know.

Blah. *heavy sigh*


Also, I have my echocardiogram today. Let's hope I'm not medically unstable in any way. Heartbeat was doing odd things last night -- pace would change seemingly randomly, & did so several times. I didn't actually skip any beats or anything like that... the speed at which it was beating just kept changing. But I'm sure that whatever it is will probably be caught on the echo, as I don't really feel any different this morning, so we shall see how it goes. Hopefully I'm just being a hypochondriac again.


11:02 AM:

Had the echo... the technician asked me if my doctor had ever said anything to me about a heart murmur :|. Thing is, I was listening to it as it was being done (during some short parts you can hear sound) and a few of them did sound a little funny :S. She also asked me, after she'd finished the echo, if I had an appointment scheduled with my doctor, and I said that I was seeing him on December 8th, and she said, "Oh, not till December?" like she thought it should be sooner. Ughhhh. Paranoia. :| :|

Anyway, I see my GP next week, on Tuesday, so I'll mention it to her then. It's easy enough for her to get the stethoscope out and listen to my heart to see if there really is a murmur, or whatever. Plus I spose I really need to bring up the fatigue, the dizziness I've been having randomly since last night, that sort of thing. For now the confusion seems to be at bay, which is a good thing, but I am aware that it could be due to my extra calories yesterday. Note the word "could". Hypochondriac yet again. I worry about these things too much. :/

So the extreme sleepy-making side effects of the Risperdal mostly died after day 1, and seem to be basically entirely gone now. However, I am still having a lot of difficulty with concentration, etc. Thing is, I'm not convinced it's the med that's doing this. It seems like when I eat a little more, or smaller amounts more frequently, I do not have such huge issues with being able to focus. When I don't do either, however, my brain and my body turn themselves to shit. Or so it's been the last couple of days. :S

Woke up with really bad edema this morning. Fingers were all swollen and inflexible. Of course, my stupid ass didn't drink proper fluids to drive the edema out... no, I decided instead to have coffee so the diuretic effect would make the edema go away :S. I know this is not going to work in the long term... I need to hydrate properly. But I didn't want to have to drink all the fluids, and stay edemic for a long time, and probably not get to leave my house because I was "fat" from water retention, so I drank coffee, made some more coffee, and came out to the university instead. :|

Actually, I'm having a lot of symptoms of hypokalemia (low potassium), which I know really isn't good. The edema. Being thirsty all the time (and drinking plain fluids doesn't seem to alleviate my thirst much). Also, "confusion" can be another symptom, so maybe my mental symptoms are some kind of combination of low-ish blood sugar and low-ish potassium... I don't really know. [I was also really shaky and funny-feeling this morning when getting on the bus, walking, etc.] I'm not exactly a doctor, so I shouldn't be diagnosing myself with shit, I realize. But low potassium is something I should be aware of the possibility of, because it can cause serious problems if it gets too bad.

Thing is, even though I'm thinking this all through, trying to keep track of it, etc... I don't see how I can possibly fix it. I feel like I can't change the habits of the ED, even if it does eventually lead to medical instability. I just can't. Do it. I guess it's that OCD-like rigidity which does seem to accompany my ED, even when it's not pure, or even "good", restricting. I get very set in the sort of routine I build for myself, or a set of ways I can feel within the ED, and anything that threatens to interrupt it is unacceptable. But it really isn't going to be cool if keeping myself together mentally makes me seriously unstable physically. -.-



Also, I realized that I haven't been updating about appointments and things lately, so although this entry is about a thousand years long already, I will do that now. I mean, everyone is obviously more than welcome to skip reading it if they want. Lol.

So I finally had my cardiologist appointment last Monday. What he said to me, basically, was that he doesn't think there's anything really wrong with me, either... but he's still sending me for more tests -.-. I got a cardiac stress test booked when I was there, which is for either late November or early December, and they sent me a letter in the mail about an echocardiogram, which I'm supposed to get done on Tuesday. Which is odd, as I was under the impression that it took awhile to book ECGs, but I guess it's also good? At least I'll get it out of the way, anyhow.

So it looks like the ED clinic may be even slower in coming now. *sigh*. However, my social worker (who is amazing) had previously sent a referral for an interim dietician on my behalf, and that person called me on... Thursday, I believe? So I actually have an appointment with her for this coming Thursday. I'm pretty nervous about it, on the one hand, because I know she's going to weigh me, will ask me fairly in-depth about eating behaviors, etc. On the other hand, I know I can simply leave the appointment and do absolutely nothing that she suggests. But the recovery-oriented part of me is not going to let me do that -- I know it won't. So I expect that this RD appointment is going to succeed in further widening the gash between my disordered and recovery sides, which may or may not be productive. But I can't just sit here and do nothing, either. It's pretty confusing. Then again, everything seems to be lately. :/


PS: I apologize if part of this are badly written. I guess it makes sense that an inability to properly focus/concentrate would come out in my writing, too. :S

Went to the psychiatrist yesterday, and was talking about the ED being worse, having dropped school, etc. I told him, among other things, that my anxiety was a large part of the reason the recovery efforts I've made on my own haven't worked. He then offered to either try upping my Effexor dose, or start me on a small dose of an atypical antipsychotic, to help with the anxiety.

I quickly made it clear that I didn't think an Effexor increase would help, as I lost the most weight (50lbs in 4 months) when I was on a dosage of Effexor twice as high as it is now. However, I was worried about the weight gain side effects of antipsychotics, as I knew from friends' experiences that the reason people gain weight is because the pills make them hungrier, and I was afraid that I'd get increased/uncontrollable binge urges from certain ones, etc. He decided to try me on a low dose of Risperdal, as he said that has one of the lowest incidence of weight gain side effects among the atypical antipsychotics.

So I took my first dose, 1mg, last night, and... oh my GOD, the drowsiness. I woke up during the night and was vaguely afraid I'd stop breathing or my blood pressure would go too low, as I recall, because my physical body felt SO drugged. And today I am still in a stupor... it's hard even typing this. I AM hungrier, too, but today I think it's because I'm so drowsy/dopey that my body's trying to make me eat more to get some extra energy. Only I know that's not going to work, because food can't fix an artificial agent in my bloodstream/brain that's making me sleepy. I know this side effect will wear off within a couple of days, but OMFG, it's so bloody annoying for the moment. I just want it to go away now. Ugh.

I'm so.. detached today. Things don't quite seem focused/real. Concentration is hard. I don't know if it's from fatigue, or because my therapy session today drained me, or what.

I do know that things are worse mentally. I am having a harder time dealing with all my stupid bullshit. I am so tired of the eating disorder, the things inside of me that I hate, all of it, but I can't face any of it. I want to run... but I know I can't run if I ever want to get truly better, because I've been running since I was 15, and running only makes me worse and worse and worse. In essence, in order for the fire to die, I have to walk through it, let it sear my flesh, let it tear me open, scream with the pain of it... and then when I am finally through the fire, all the worst parts will be burned away, and I can be healed. Or at least I think that's what's supposed to happen.

But I don't want to face my demons. I don't want to really, fully realize that I have a dark side that wants a place in my brain and body and soul. I don't want to be an adult -- sexual, knowing and enjoying the pleasurable, callous, dirty side of life. I don't want to acknowledge the desires that I have within myself, the ones that always come back no matter how hard I try to suppress them. So if I won't deal with my shit, and I am tired of playing the running game, what is the answer?

To my brain, the answer is death. I feel like I just don't want to be here anymore. I do not want to deal with this shit. I don't want to deal with anything. I want to kill myself -- whether slowly or quickly (ie, either via the eating disorder, or by ODing or something similar). Whichever way I do it, though, I want to know it is working... I either want to know that my ED is on a constant downward slope, or I want to fucking die already. I'm tired of life. I'm tired of trying to cope. I'm tired of everything.

I told my psychologist the essence of this today, and I felt a little better after saying it... for awhile. But that never lasts, either. So now all I've got left is this stupid fucking head of mine, and the hope that whatever part of me still wants to live and have a real life is going to be strong enough to get me through without drastic measures. I don't want to go through all the stupid shit around ODing again... doing it, getting scared or whatever, telling someone, ending up in hospital, getting medical treatment(s), getting psychiatry consults, being essentially not helped, being discharged. Rinse and repeat times a fucking thousand. I just can't do that right now. I can't. But I know I "shouldn't" lose a lot more weight. But I want to. But I'm not losing anything, because I turn to comfort eating and purging so often. But I can't seem to let myself get medically unstable from the bulimia, either... I'm always replacing things just enough that my body is maintaining itself. So I am also completely fucking failing at any attempt to get rid of myself. And I am, of course, also sick of being a failure.

My head is tearing me completely apart. I don't know what the fuck to do anymore. I am lost. I can't deal. Everything is fucked.

I feel like I am falling down the rabbit hole.

I don't want to do anything. I don't want to be myself, or really be anyone else. I don't want to have to actively work at changing what I am, what I eat, what I do in my life, how I feel. It is all so tiring, and I am so tired, and sick of trying so hard when all it does is make me more and more and more tired.

I just want to not be so tired. So jaded. I want to believe the world means something, only I know that's bullshit. I spent my teen years trying to find meaning, connection, love, and look where I ended up. I got nothing. No answers, no one I can have a real relationship with and also be real, no one with whom I feel I can truly, totally show myself and be who I truly am. I can't be vulnerable; I can't be "with myself", present, just feeling what I feel; I can't be truly happy, or have true self-love, or actually WANT to take care of myself.

I am nothingness, and my head is being pulled back into the black hole.

So yesterday was a pretty shit day in terms of eating... was restricting again all day (well, as much restricting as I seem able to do lately, anyway), and then b/ped when I came home from open mic last night. I was a little worried to see some of the baby carrots I'd eaten at... what, 1? 1:30?... come up at about 10:30-11 PM :| .

Today has been a little better, though -- only had coffee for breakfast as per usual, but I had my session with my social worker today, and afterwards she asked me if I wanted to stay for lunch at the house (M House), so I accepted. So I had a bowl of homemade turkey soup, a white dinner roll, a teeny tiny bowl of fruit salad, and some shortbread-like cookie thing. Well, and Coke Zero, but that doesn't really "count", I suppose.

I did have to leave my apartment basically right after I came back from M House, though, because I knew I would binge if I sat in my place much longer. I really have to get over this thing where being home seems to = automatic binge trigger. There are times when I can be at home for 3, 4, 5 hours without wanting to binge, but the urges never fail to come sooner or later. I know that at least part of this has got to be due to the restriction/malnourishment... but that doesn't make it any easier to mentally handle the urges, or always eat when I feel binge-y. The restrictive part of my disorder simply can't handle keeping down good amounts of foods for extended periods, yet. I seem to be able to eat normally or semi-normally every 2-3 days, anyway, so that's sort of an improvement, I guess??

I don't know if I'm going to be able to make any sort of "supper" for myself tonight, let alone keep it down, though. It seems that when I am served food, instead of having to make it for myself, I can handle that if I decide it's okay to eat it; but even if I am hungry, know I should eat healthily, I find it near impossible to actually prepare meals for myself. I think it's because it feels like I'm being so "nice" to myself when I do that, and I don't want to be nice to myself. It also feels like some dam inside me is going to burst apart, and everything inside of me is going to flood out and destroy me / others, if I let go of this ED. That's the bigger part of it, I think. Somehow I have to figure out how to deal with that... but I have absolutely no idea how doing so would work at present. :S

"Breakfast": Medium light roast coffee with milk and sweetener

Lunch: Small veggie pita on whole wheat with lettuce, tomato, cucumber, green pepper, mushroom, hummus, honey mustard, and light mayo; a bottle of Diet Pepsi

"Snack", aka Niika-can't-control-her-damned-self: Two shortbread cookies in the form of pumpkins, with orange icing

Supper: Formers' Supper at M House -- half plate spaghetti with meat sauce & mushrooms; quarter plate of Caesar salad with like... 1 crouton and two bacon bits :| ; 1 piece of multigrain garlic bread; maybe around a cup of iced tea

Snack: A piece of the half chocolate, half butter pecan cake with orange icing (Halloween cake) that was made for dessert; not quite half of a bottle of Diet Pepsi


My stomach has decided to be a bitch tonight and give me ulcer/hernia/whatever-the-hell-it-is problems. Love the thanks my body gives me for eating more -.- . On the other hand, I'm sure these stomach problems would never have happened in the first place had it not been for the ED, so probably the only way I'm going to be able to fix the pain is eat normally, not purge, and grin and bear it in the meantime. I managed to eat more today, but I'm already planning to b/p at least once when I get home, because I simply can't resist the impulse, and I want to, and I need it. Also known as: fuck my stupid fucking head. :/

Also: My social worker called the ED clinic the other day about whether I could see someone while waiting for the referral to go through, and it turns out that there's some outpatient dietician who only has about a 2-3 week waiting list at the moment. So she sent the referral off tonight. If I get into the clinic before the dietician can see me I can just not go; but if there is any sort of delay with getting clinic services (and given what's already gone on, that's not so unlikely), I will at least be able to talk to someone about it and attempt to get some kind of meal plan or something. I guess I'll see if and when I get there. *shrug*

Complete fail at recovery. My ability to eat "more" lasted all of one day... then on Sunday I ate a bagel with cream cheese from Tim Hortons, really early in the day, freaked out about eating even MORE later on in the day and really truly starting to gain weight, and ended up b/ping. Four times. :|

Yesterday... well, I wish I could say I didn't eat "much" aside from the two b/ps I had. I tried not to eat much, but it didn't quite work out that way, as a lot more ended up digesting than I had planned. And then at the end of it all, of course, I got slightly hypoglycemic, so I ate fucking maple kisses candies, and had a glass of apple juice. I am a fucking fatass.

My mindset these last couple of days has been really really horrid, as well. I keep wishing I would just die already -- feeling like simply expiring would be a really good thing. I don't have any plans to act on this right now (no worries)... it's a pretty passive desire. Right now, actually, my inclination is to let the ED do it for me. Which may be another part of the reason why I b/ped six times in two days.

The right corner of my mouth is starting to get a red mark on it. I am pale. I am only letting myself drink coffee before I see my GP today at 1:30 (it's 7:40 now), as I don't want to seem overly fat on her scale, which reads about 2lbs heavier than mine because of clothing and such. I was 101.6 this morning; my hope is that, if she does weigh me today, her scale will say something around 103. Which would be a BMI of 17.8. Which isn't low enough, granted, but it's lower than my last weigh-in at her office (107.5; BMI of about 18.6?).

I feel quite self-destructive. Instead of slicing up my skin (which I have thought about also), I feel like I am waging war on my esophagus, stomach, intestines. The constant b/ping, even if my chemistry is not horribly imbalanced yet, is definitely taking its toll on the "hardware" of my body. I know I still have that ulcer/stomach thing, at least, because over the last couple days it's been hurting more. Which of course makes perfect sense.

All I want to do is destroy myself. Kill this stupid thing inside me that I can't even identify, let alone figure out how to fix. What is it about me that I hate so much? What is it that's inside me that I need to kill so badly that I'm willing to literally, physically die to not have to see it or deal with it?

I don't know. I don't fucking know.

I am trying to attempt to eat a little more throughout the day -- sometimes -- but I am terrified of gaining weight, still, so I will not eat any more than my body will allow me to. So far today I've had about 6 or 7 sweet chili heat Doritos, about 1/2 bowl or a little more of a (very full and very chunky) bowl of turkey soup, and a coffee. I still feel full right now, actually, but I can't tell whether that's my anxiety or my stomach talking at this particular moment. Either way, I can't allow myself to eat more until I feel really, truly hungry. And even then it has to be "good" things, and I have to have something of a decent portion, or, preferably, I have to know the calories in the food.

I don't know. I feel like this is a "positive step", yet I'm aware that I'm still not eating "enough". Yet I'm trying to eat more throughout the day than I was willing to eat during the day before, and I'm not as cold, and when I do manage it I feel less weak, seem to have more brainpower, etc. So I am doing "better", I guess. And yet I have no idea if I actually am gaining weight, as the lack of cold, etc, would mean my metabolism is slightly higher than before, which means I am (hopefully) maintaining. Again, I'm super terrified of gaining weight, and right now I'm also not 100% convinced I need or want to gain anything, ever, so I can't let myself. I am also still b/ping... but there were a couple of days I didn't b/p at all, not so long ago. So does that make me any better, or am I just fooling myself? I don't know. *sigh* But I am trying not to let myself regress further, and so any tiny baby steps I can take may help. Or so I am telling myself.

A week and three days until my cardiologist appointment. Follow-up with my GP re: medical tests on Tuesday. Therapy with psychologist as usual on Wednesday.

Ho-hum.

I am losing my motivation.

I am not thin enough, sick enough, good enough for treatment.

Plus, I'm starting to really want to self-destruct. I feel like I am a horrible, awful person, and I deserve the pain. I deserve everything I get for doing this stuff to myself, for being so wrong on the inside, for being such a horrible failure.

Feeling good, or even okay, doesn't feel "right" anymore. All that feels right is discomfort and self-torture.

A rainy day, a muddy hill, and I am slipping down it.

Went to the fill-in GP today, and now I have to get a whole bunch of tests done... ugh. She gave me slips for bloodwork, a new EKG, and a chest x-ray; I'm also being sent for a H. pylori breath test thing, and an upper GI series. Essentially, she thinks I might have a stomach ulcer... however, because my primary complaint was chest pain, and because I told her that I had an eating disorder (which I described as "bulimia slash restricting"), she's sending me off for a bunch of other stuff as well, like the EKG, iron and B12 levels, etc. Oh, yeah, and the area where my gallbladder is felt odd/bad when she poked at it, so she's testing that too. :|

She got me to make an appointment for two weeks from now to see my regular GP, I guess to get checked out again as well as to get the results from some of the lab work, etc. My blood pressure was 140/90, which is a bit high, but I'd JUST had coffee, not to mention I was quite anxious, so the combination evidently did me no favors. My pulse was 70, though, which is fine. In the meantime, she has told me to cut back on the caffeine (!), and to try and keep something in my stomach at all times (!!). I can probably cut back the caffeine, although I doubt I can give it up altogether, but there's no way in hell I'm eating smaller meals throughout the day, or whatever. My calories are NOT going up. I feel fat enough already without eating all sorts of other extra shit. She did put me on a temporary double dose of Prevacid, though, which should help even if I can't bring myself to eat and keep down much more.

Nothing else is really very different, aside from the fact that my level of frustration has gone up another few notches. I just wish I didn't have to run back and forth to the doctor's office and the hospital and the psychology/psychiatry clinic and M House all the fucking time, especially because all it's doing right now is slowing my still-fairly-fast-moving trainwreck. I wish I just knew how to be fucking normal, and be okay with myself, and be able to tolerate life without destroying my body and mind and in the process. I don't know what the fuck it's going to take to get me to wake the fuck up.

Made an appointment with the GP on Tuesday. It's not my regular GP, as she's off till Wednesday, but I have no trouble admitting I'm bulimic and talking about physical symptoms, so I'll go anyway. Probably better to do it quickly, when I'm still willing to go / have the symptoms, etc.

I was actually not having any pain or discomfort at all, but it started to hurt when I began drinking my coffee this morning -- first in my stomach/throat area, and later it felt more like it was in my chest. That makes me think it's a problem with my esophagus or stomach, probably caused by the purging :|. It would make sense, given that I purge every day, and sometimes 2 or 3 times a day, and that in between times I drink a lot of acidic things and don't exactly coat my stomach with food. I guess I'll find out for sure when I go on Tuesday.

Today I was 100.4, which means that my BMI is "officially" below 17.5. I wish that made me happy, but it really doesn't. I feel just as shitty about my weight as I did at 17.5, or 17.6, or in the 18s or 19s for that matter. I feel like the biggest fucking heifer alive. And I'm getting utterly terrified of food.

I'm supposed to eat (vegetarian) pizza tomorrow at volunteer training. Eat Thanksgiving dinner at a friend's house the night after that. Next Wednesday I also have to eat another Thanksgiving dinner, as there is a tenant meeting at my apartment building, which is going to be based around a turkey dinner. I mean, FUCK. I try to be fucking social, and not go crazy from social isolation, but the result of that is that people have to push all this fucking fattening greasy disgusting food in my face??? It really fucking pisses me off. And I may not be able to finish the food anyway, because it terrifies me. That won't be such a problem at the tenant meeting... but around all my friends, all of whom know I have an eating problem, and have watched me as I've lost from healthy to underweight? AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

Still doing shitty. Feel a bit crap physically as well. For the last day or two I've had weird pseudo chest pain things, which I think are mostly anxiety, too much caffeine, and/or not enough liquids. I've had plenty of all three, believe me. I'm considering booking an appointment with my GP, but I probably won't. What would I say to her? "Hey, look, I know you know I have an ED, and you can't do anything for me until I go to the specialist, but I feel like crap, so waaaah." ??? No thanks. I mean, maybe I should be having blood tests at least semi-regularly, even if just for electrolytes.... or maybe I'm just a fucking attention-seeking hypochondriac, and nothing I do is acutually bad enough for things to go medically wrong with me. Mostly I'm pretty convinced of the latter. Hence not going to the doctor, like, ever.

I did drop school, also... deregistered for my term on Monday. That means that student loan will get back 25% of the money they paid for my tuition/fees, which is better for me, as it'll be a little less to pay back, at least. The money they gave me for rent and living expenses is mine unless I choose to give it back, which I'd have to be an IDIOT to do, so it's still going to pay my rent and living expenses for Sept through November. After that... well, I guess it'll probably end up being social assistance for me. If I haven't got the energy to do school and still be functional in other areas, I hardly see how I could have the energy to work a full-time job and still be functional.

I'm seriously starting to get really, really sick of this ED bullshit now. I've even considered going back to Homewood, which is a place I swore I'd NEVER go back to again, as I had so many issues with their meal plan and general program the first time around. I think my brain is grasping at any possible straws that might keep me afloat, because I have nothing right now. Zero. Nadda. Zilch. No support. No monitoring. Not a goddamned fucking thing. And that does kinda piss me off; but at the same time part of me doesn't think I need or deserve it.

Sometimes I really hate my stupid fucking brain.