2004-07-19, 9:36 p.m.
If I don't get into seeing Julio this week, I won't see him for another month. I emailed him and told him that. I didn't get a reply.
I went to the beach with friends, or people who use to be friends, today. I didn't want to, i wanted to stay home and binge, but i knew if i didn't go i'd hate myself for turning down friend's requests to hang out once again just to binge. so i forced myself to put on beach clothes and grabbed a book and was off. Afterwards I was invited back to friend's house but i said i think i'll just go home, ate an abusrdly large amount of food, and now here i am, about to burst, and updating quickly so i can repeat the last 2 year's evenings of my life over the toilet. My stomatch is stretched to maximum capacity but im still nibbing on cookies and drinking coke. And, yay, after I'm done with all of the puking I have to do, and i'm exausted, sore, and hating myself, i get to clean up the dishes and trash.
Fuck. I'm so tired of this. Oh, but it gets better. You got to hear this. Guess what. I hate this, it's a pain in the ass, i'm broke because of it, i have no friends, it leaves me exausted, smelly, sore throat, and it's just gross, but I'll do it all over again tommorow night.
Really, I should just kill myself. Because I'm a fucking GENIUS.
Why can't I get it through my STUPID head that this isn't fun. That I have half a pizza, an empty pringles can, about 10 plates, 5 bottles, and so much fucking trash to face.
And an hour with the toilet to look foward to. And like a baby, I want to cry "I want my therapist" like he can make this better. But he can't. No one can. Not my therapist, not the school counselor, not my parents, not any treatment program, not anti-depressants.
Call me the fuck up. Push me off a bridge.
God. I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Complaining. Bitching.
This Saturday I go to Hawaii. Any bets how long I'll last before I give into temptation and purge something? Anything? 3 days? 2 days? Right when we get off the plane?
Me = Failure