I am so incredibly emotional today. I've already starting crying twice - once after talking to my father and once after trying to talk to my brother - they both just completely brushed me aside with the abrupt rudeness they've been cultivating for years. The men in this house make me sick. All men do, actually. It's enough to go lesbian. Not really though. Instead, I'll continue to rely on myself.
So I'll get to the nitty gritty. Last night was not good. I restricted during the day, but after work I went to the store. I pathetically bought a bag of organic cheese puffs and a box of Velveeta mac and cheese. I came home and desperately ate the entire bag of cheese puffs. I didn't stop to breathe and barely chewed. I was starving and needed something. My tongue actually started burning towards the end. I finished the bag and felt so full...so gross...but I wanted more. After all, what I had really been craving was the mac and cheese. I decided to make it, even though I had just ingested 750 calories.
I turned the water on to boil, and quickly ate a small apple (for the "nutrients"). I made it, filled my bowl, and went to my room to scarf it down. Well I couldn't finish it. My stomach was hurting so bad and I was so unbelievably full. I lay down in the fetal position on my bed; my stomach gurgling; my thoughts racing. I decided to purge.
This was about one in the morning and I didn't want to wake anyone up. I grabbed my glass of water and headed to the bathroom. I turned on the fan and the shower, took a sip of water, bent over, and scratched my throat with one finger. My nails are long. I instantly puked, it came out so fast. All of it. I barely splashed the wall. It was all so quick, so easy. Too easy.
I wiped the toilet off, flushed twice, turned off the shower. Walked calmly back to my room, packed up a bowl of weed, and smoked. I was up later than usual but did not eat anymore. I still haven't ate. I had one cup of tea and currently drinking my first cup of black coffee.
And now it's time to get ready for work. The idea of eating is grossing me out, so I probably won't. Fuck food. Seriously. I hate it. I hate how I feel about it. I hate what it does to me. I hate how I have no control. I hate hate hate it all.
I should be asking myself, why?. Why binge and purge? What emotion was I feeling? The sad thing is that I know the answer. I was in a good mood! I was feeling positive! But my desire to self-sabotage is just too strong.
Oh, and I weighed myself this morning when I woke, and I'm down. Again. Am I smiling? No.
Think thin . Stay strong .