The scale LIES.

So.
The last two days, I've been seeing new numbers. Numbers that (sadly) my 11 year old self would envy.

But--of course--today has truly been terrible.

Eat. Binge. Purge. Rinse. Sit for an hour. Go buy chips; See HUGE ASS pastry in machine. Come back with more change, lol. Binge. Purge. Rinse. Break until 6:30. Last binge. Purge. Rinse. Rinse again. Insert coughdrop. Surf web. Log onto blogger after a month of inactivity to bitch about it.

Total intake today: 5500-5600 calories
Weight Change: -1.4 pounds

Make sense to you?
Yeah, me neither.

If this is the price I have to pay to see lower numbers...
...Then I DON'T WANT IT.

I fasted until around six. Even then, I had cereal with no intention of binging.
Then--BOOM.

I got it out [which is what the mind wanted]. I managed to lose almost a pound today.

It still wasn't enough. I had to take the pills, and it's all I can do to stay in this chair and not practically tackle the stationary bike (can't use the treadmill, it's too late [yes we have both, no one uses them, and now you understand why I'm FAT]. The neighbors will think we have a hippo bouncing up and down on the upper floor).

Fine, you win. I'll get on the bike. Happy?

Just keep me out the damn fridge.

Slip, or ignore it the best I can?

I can't sit still.

This is literally the best day calorie-wise I've had in months, yet all I want to do is scream (or puke...screaming, then puking feels like the best route).
Either way, I've still had too much and it was mostly bread anyways.

BUT: I am (again) trying to stop purging, so I guess it'll just have to stay in.

DAMN IT.

So I'm back, and fatter than ever.

Isn't that special?

I tried to go to a recovery site, but as I tried to post I realized there was nothing positive to say. I'd gone to this site previously, only to turn around and continue to purge daily [DESPITE being 'in recovery']. There was a signature I'd read prior to joining the site in question that accurately describes how I feel:

'I want recovery, but I want thin first.'

Sad to say that my chronic dehydration/fatigue/dizzy spells aren't enough to stop me.

My family life has grown more tense as well: For one, Nan wants me to go and find a job [she genuinely believes I have no desire to do so]. In truth, I want a job--that gets me one step closer to being left the hell ALONE. But that also gives me more money to throw away on laxatives, binge food, and any other CRAP I can find. I know what I am like: if I have those kinds of resources, I'm bound to push myself further into my own head.

No matter how you look at it, I'm SCARED.

I don't want to get worse.
I don't want to get better.
I don't want to stay where I am right now.
I don't want the anxiety that comes with any controlled intake over 800.
I don't want the 165 laxative pills I still have hidden in my room.
I don't want a job.
I don't want to live with my family anymore.
I don't know WHAT I want [and therein lies the reason as to why I am FUCKED].

Count the days...watch them slip away from you.

In eight more days, I'll be going back to a school I've never liked. Worst of all, I'll be surrounded by beautiful people that that depress me with each passing moment, as well as the happy, suffocating ones that never cease to give me headaches.

If I'm lucky, I'll be in classes where I won't have to say anything.

I've always been that one student in class that had an answer to just about every question the teacher presented [Yeah, sorry to those of you who hate that type]. It got to the point where even the teachers would ignore me.

But now, I'm tired of answering as though I 'know everything.' It was all a vain attempt to prove to myself I wasn't completely and utterly useless.

So this year, no response. If you ask me, I don't know. If it's my opinion, just get back to me.

I'm tired of trying.

Taking in food.

Over-eating is truly my problem.
It's been this way for about...10 years now?
Each and every time I think about what 'caused it,' I can never come up with a satisfactory answer. I've had a fairly average childhood.

I mean sure, I was neglected by my mother for a while. Yes, I was even teased/insulted by what felt like every person that crossed my path. And yes, that can tend to cause trouble for many people. But I've yet to see anyone who feels that as a result of teasing/neglect, they need to inhale 3,000+ calories for years then slowly acquire methods to forcibly remove at least *some* of it from either end.

I can't even remember why I thought laxatives were a good idea. Don't even get me started on purging.

I haven't ever been molested/raped [although I worry about it so much, I've grown more afraid of people by the day--my own family can't even touch me], I don't have a family that really inforces the want to 'be thin' [although I do have one that enjoys keeping lots of food/laxatives around, even with my history of laxative abuse]...I don't really feel there's a good enough 'reason' as to why I do this to myself [then again, there's no such thing as a 'good enough reason' to fast, binge, and purge on a virtually daily basis].


I really don't understand. And if I don't know why I do it, how can I be expected to STOP?
...I guess this will just be my life from now on.

I failed.

...Not once, but twice. Then again, it was my sister's birthday [she turned four]. It was more the idea of 'oh-it's-okay-since-there's-a-birthday-today' as opposed to actually being surrounded by food. In fact, there was very little temptation. My folks didn't even try to force food on me.

I'm still fat, so there's no fuss if I skip a meal or two [or seven, etc].

I want to go back to the recovery site I joined a while ago, but I don't quite belong there--everyone there is genuinely ready to stop [or so it seems] giving their whole selves over to self-destruction. It isn't as much that I've nothing to say--quite the contrary--I just feel like a huge fraud while everyone is putting their all into gaining their lives back, and I'm there venting right along with them, but doing nothing about the very problem that brought me to their site in the first place.

School is in 19 days [including today]. I don't think I'm ready to go back [mentally speaking]. Maybe I should actually try to find someone to put up with me [read: a friend]...then again, that might cause more trouble than it's worth. (I guess we'll see, won't we?)