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| "i want to wait to be a size 2 before i buy a pair of 7's(for all mankind jeans). my goal's january."
H reveals this secret desire to me, while i nod and smile in agreement. i've been putting off eating for 3 hours, and she won't allow me for much longer. instead of letting her drag me to eat digusting mall food, i suggest cheesecake factory so i can have low carb cheesecake and my french country salad. she orders a sandwhich, oreo cheesecake, and a caesar salad - i'm smug while comparing my intake to hers, and come home to a 30 minute jog.
this is now a challenge. i want to be a size 2 before her. i want to be a size 0 by the time she's a 2.
went shopping today; got size 27 navy skinny pants, slouchy tan bag, black and white-lace slip dress size medium. trying on clothes shocked me: i could visibly see my chestbones. there they were, standing out in all their glory -- i could've stared at them for hours. as i run my hand down my spine, i can feel every bump; i can't wait until you can see every bump.
fasting tomorrow. riding in a lesson. it's so nice out, i might go jogging before. i'm going to be really upset when i can't exercise for those first few weeks after the surgery. i'll just make a point of taking pills to make me happy and asleep instead of give me the munchies.
J's bothering me lately. he keeps saying he doesn't feel like himself and feels depressed or what not... i just want to get up in his face and yell "you think you're depressed? try not eating. try hating yourself. try always having to watch what patches of skin your parents see because you have cuts? try not knowing who you are." sometimes, i feel like i can only relate to you girls, and it worries me. i'm probably really fugged up in the head. | | |
| i stretch, then take off. i let my feet smack the sidewalk; after a few minutes of pushing myself, i can't breathe. i don't care, breathing isn't important. ribs, hipbones; those are important. sweat gathers on my forehead -- i wear it like a crown. i pass a girl in her car eating (what a fat ass.) she has no control. she wishes she was me.
now i'm home. my thoats burns like i've been purging (i wish i could.) i can feel my heart beating in my stomach. i've burned close to 150calories, but it's no where to close what i've eaten today. SAT testing kills me, and i'm hoping today was my last one. | | |
| i'm sick of being overwhelmed. i'm sick of bingeing bingeing bingeing then crying my eyes out. i'm sick of regretting every ounce of food that goes into my mouth.
for a moment, everything comes crashing down on me, and i wish i was normal. i probably ate less than everyone else i know, but i still feel huge. i wish i didn't have to hate myself. i wish i was confident. i wish i didn't cut myself (it's my newest addiction). i wish i didn't eat those chocolate bars.
it all comes back to food. my life revolves around food: the binges, purges, and fasts are my bestfriends. the worst part? i love it that way.
fasting until dinner, when i'll have to eat. i'll probably just play with my food. 
but, i can't wait to have the other surgery on my collarbone to fix it. for you girls who don't know, i broke my collarbone this summer. the doctor who did the surgery (i got a metal plate in it) did a crappy job, so i don't have the beautiful protruding collarbones i should. now, on Nov 19, i'm getting the corrective surgery to take the plate out, and hopefully make my collarbone look more normal. | | |
| i order a parfait and a side salad. i eat the parfait, barely touch the side salad. H is watching me the whole time. i feel self-conscious, and i suddenly want to cry. she then begs me to come with her to get more food, then insists i get another parfait. i do, but she still watches me. on the bus, she gives me her granola bar, even though i have my own. i hate this day.
i come home, and my period takes over: i eat cheesy broccoli, small amount of mashed potatoes, and a english muffin, then down a few halloween-size chocolate bars. fuck fuck fuck. at least i ate it all before 6.
back in control. doing crunches and fasting tomorrow. i have to go to dinner at my grandma's friday, but i'll fast until then.
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| gahhh i hate being on my period.
i was really proud of myself for not eating all day, until i came home and gave into pizza. i was about to scarf down a whole 1/4 of it, but i snapped back into reality and spit out the rest. i'm not too worried because i don't feel full, and i think i burned more than i ate (i walked Charlie atleast 10 times around our indoor, so that may be close to a mile? then, i danced around my room to paramore)
i have a fieldtrip tomorrow, so i'm really afraid that i'll have to eat. maybe i'll take a hydrocodine then use the nausea as an excuse to stick to soup broth or tea. luckily, J's not coming, so i'm not worried about anyone else noticing.
i just need to get back on track. get my bones back. get back into the 130s. i guess i'm smaller in all the areas, but i want to lose about 10-15 more pounds in my tummy. i can see ribs and hips, but it's never enough.
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