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].