2004-02-09, 6:28 p.m.
My weight has dropped but I'm not trying to lose or anything. The scale hovers between 81 or 82. I think it might be 81, but I can't be sure. I did get my period this month, but it was hardly anything compared to the periods I use to get. I use to get extremely heavy periods where I'd have to change a heavy tampon every hour for the first day, and the second day wouldn't be much better. This period I could hardly wear a tampon (because of not enough blood). I didn't bleed through one entire tampon the whole time, but I had to change it periodcally because of sanitary reasons. It was like, a few drops the whole time. Needless to say, I hardly bled, but I did bleed for 4-5 days. That was a pain in the ass because I hardly felt like I was on my period, just an inconvienance of minor bleeding.
Today, I don't know what my deal is. I think I'm so so fed up with this eating disorder. I don't want to have to get food anymore, prepare it, live this fucked up distorted life. I'm tired of being OCD, paranoid (what's that? Is someone watching me?) I'm tired of being screwed up. I want to live a happy, normal life. I'm so edgy today. It pains me to say this, but i started to flip out over my keyboard today. I got on the floor with a bent up bobby pin and was taking it apart, going through the cracks, and cleaning it to death. I started to flip out. I was cleaning faster and faster, shaking it, banging the crumbs out, scraping the sides. I HAD to clean it. I COULDN'T stand to the sight of it. It was driving me MAD to see the junk in the crevices. I must've looked insane on the floor. It makes me shudder to image the picture of me there scowling and picking off the keys and working at the keyboard.
My OCD is getting out of control. I'm always feeling dirty. In the shower I wash myself twice, shave my underarms daily because I feel like stuff will build up other wise. I feel like a film of dirt is building on me all day. I always worry about forgetting to put deodrant on; I don't want to smell. I have this paranoia about bugs being indoors and I search for them in the kitchen mostly, but also everywhere else in the house. I kill them immediatly if I find them and chase them down if I miss them. I look ridiculous trying to kill the critters that are faster then me. Oh god, then there is always the picking, popping, of my face, chest, neck, and whatever else I can find. Pimples, ingrown hairs, scabs, pores, bumps, and imaginary whatevers are viciously attacked by me for hours daily. I can't stop. I can sit by the mirror and attack something till it's a gaping pussing hole. Then i realize, oh shit, what did I do? Then i just move on till something else. i graze my face, neck, or chest, till i find something else. And, of course, I can't stop bingeing and purging. Every night, in my routine, usually the same time. I have this routine of having 4 types of big foods, and then some kind of sweet "dessert" type thing. And always a litter of diet coke. My wallet suffers a giant hole from all this food. I don't want to think about what kind of things I could have done with all the money I've wasted on food daily these past couple years.
Tommorow I go to the group again. I can't even think about it. I'm too worried about trying to get the strength to purge tonight, and make it to school tommorow. I'm so worn and beaten. I can't tell myself lies to cover this anymore. It's too real, a bright light shining the truth into what i've tried to cover for so long. This is really happening. I'm so fucked up. Gah. I wish it was like music, or some real life sound that I could just turn off or plug my ears to. I don't care if it's really happening. Fine, I'll acknowledge it. I just want to ignore it for a little while longer.