“I didn’t think you were skinny enough to have an eating disorder.”
FUCK YOU.
“My grandmother is the most amazing person I know, and most of her kids and grandkids have let her down. I’m one of the few who haven’t completely broken her heart. I couldn’t disappoint her like that. If she found out about what was going on, I don’t even know what I’d do.”
That was in one of my first posts.
I’ve recently started seeing a therapist and the first time I went to my head psychiatrist he told her I have an eating disorder.
She simply said she didn’t notice.
Later she told me, “I know you don’t eat much, but I didn’t think anything was wrong with it. I didn’t think you were skinny enough to have an eating disorder.”
FUCK HER.
I’LL FUCKING SHOW YOU.
P.S. I don’t have an eating disorder. I just have a problem with proving people wrong.
Bye Bye Appetite
Long story short.
I’m fucked up.
Went to the doctor.
Doc gave me some pills.
Main side effects?
Loss of appetite.
- So? I don’t usually have an appetite anyway. But now I have an excuse.
Weight Loss.
I’m happy as shit.
Successful, I am.
I ate two pieces of french toast and two scrambled eggs for breakfast this morning.
I felt absolutely horrible and hated myself for it.
But of course my boyfriend was there, so he would’ve said something if I didn’t eat some of the food I made for him.
I just want to stay under the radar.
So I ate it.
I went to take a shower and I almost broke down and cried because I know I can’t make myself purge anymore.
But I tried it anyway.
It hurt so good.
And I finally got it to happen.
I’m empty, and it’s the best feeling in the whole entire world.
When my boyfriend tickles my sides I giggle.
Because I guess that’s what you do when something tickles.
And I never want to tell him to stop, because I see how happy it makes him when I laugh.
But the whole time I think to myself
Grab my fucking love handles. Remind me of how disgusting I am. Mock me. Admonish me and show me how I don’t deserve you.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Crying over the shit I have posted on her from earlier this year.
What the fuck has happened to me?
I’m a disgusting fucking, filthy pig.
I can’t fucking wait to get back on track.
I don’t know how I thought ‘healthy’ was even possible for me.
It’s not.
And I should know better than that.
I promise, I fucking promise I’ll remember who I am.
I promise I won’t be miserable anymore.
I promise I won’t cry every night because of what I ate that day.
I promise that will be because numbers will be my friend again.
I promise food will not enter my mouth like it does now.
I promise I won’t be a piece of shit anymore.
I promise I’ll listen to you, little voice in my head.
I promise.
It’s that time of the night again…
2am. Everyone is asleep and I am left alone. I go from loving this alone time to hating it…I do love it most of the time, but sometimes I hate it because I am left alone with my thoughts…too much alone time = too much time in my own head space which can be destructive…and tonight I am hating it. I want to avoid binging and purging, it already feels like there’s an elephant sitting on my chest.
and the worst part is that my parents just said the worst shit to me.
eating carbs and carbs and carbs and then being put down like this is the worst feeling ever.
Ate a whole bowl of pasta with sauce.
Tried puking forever.
It’s just not working.
