Tonight was not good. I went shopping and bought cute clothes, the tops were size small (ok this is good but read on). Then I stopped at a little gas station, close to home, and bought a pint of ice cream. I came home, ate the ice cream, wasn't full. So I made a peanut butter and banana sandwich on 2 slices of whole wheat bread. Ate that. Still wasn't full. I opened the pantry and stood there for awhile, scarfing down cashews. Grabbed the ass end of some chips and ate those too.
Now I sit here, uncomfortably full and hating myself all over again. This binge was kind of a surprise to me. I was not really expecting it. But did I really think I'd be able to eat ice cream and not want to indulge more after my spoon scraped the bottom of the pint? I suppose I did. I suppose I wasn't thinking at all about the consequences.
Now I just want to puke. But I really shouldn't, it's so bad for me :(
(twenty-five minutes later)
I went to the bathroom and stuck my fingers down my throat and puked up a lot of liquid. I forced myself to stop after fifteen minutes of torture. I feel slightly better, but really only *slightly*.
My punishment will be STRICT RESTRICTION tomorrow along with EXERCISE.
Because I refuse to get fat. I just bought clothes sized small, I'm not going to be too fat to wear them!
I have no idea how many calories I puked out but even if it was only 100, then I could be satisfied. Because that is 100 less in me. Mirror check, brb.
Oh man, it's so sad how I look in the mirror and see a flatter stomach and little hip bones after a puking. I'm sorry, I'm disgusting. I just hope I wake up and feel a little better. Wow, I can't believe I spent $4.50 on that stupid ice cream just to throw it up. Serves me right. Will I ever learn?
tHiNk tHin . .