2005-08-19, 2:42 p.m.
things are so fucked up right now.
i'm such a wreck and i wish i would just die of this eating disorder already because i don't want to live another day struggling with it. i'm tired of this battle. i'm tired of trying to decide whether to eat or not or to binge or restrict and then playing out those decisions. I'm tired of going from obese to thin 60 times in a day.
Yesterday was such a long day. I went to San Juan Capistrano with my dad and got stressed out over lunch. He wanted to split a lunch but I wanted my own. The reason I wanted my own was because I didn't want to eat a sandwich and share his salad. If I chose not to eat the sandwich, it would look funny, and I wouldn't get enough salad to get me throug the afternoon. I would feel bad saying I wanted my own salad and my fucked up mind was saying I didn't deserve my own salad and it was too much food for my fat self, anyway. I agreed to split. What was brought out to me was a half turkey/avacado/cheese/tomato sandwich, and a pile of ice burg lettuce. Immediatly my mind categorized the safe food. Lettuce and tomato. great. I daintly ate the pile of lettuce that was suppose to be some form of salad but when I was done with my salad, my dad still had some of his sandwich left. I tried to chew and spit some of my sandwich, but was starving and sad. I began to pick apart my sandwich and try to carry on a conversation. I took out the tomato and wiped off whatever sauce was on it, and cut it into pieces. I saw my dad looking down at my plate, and broken up sandwich. I tried to put together the sandwich again and spit and chew another piece, but the sandwich was falling apart. Oi. By the end of the meal, I had two pieces of bread with bites out of them, and the insides were missing. I lost track what I actually ate and what I spit and chew and seeing my plate so empty made me feel so huge.
That evening, I went on a long bike ride with Danielle. I didn't want to go and half hoped she would cancel, but my fat self wouldn't let myself not go. Her boyfriend, myself, and her stopped for dinner at a greek place. I've never had greek food and though I was hungry, was scared to eat. The nagging voice inside of me was telling myself I didn't deserve to eat. I got a "greek salad" but told them to subsitute the feta cheese with cucumbers. What I got was a more leafy green salad with veggies, olives, cucumbers, and several triangles of warm pita bread. The bread was off limits and usually i'm good at avoiding anything that's unsafe like bread. I just don't touch it or even try it. But once I had a bite of it, it was so good and tempting. And since they were triangle a bite looked like I ate so much of one and I felt guilty. So since i had one bite I went overboard and ate nearly all of one and that seemed like so much of this one triangle of pita bread. Near the end of my salad, I kind of nibbled on the bread to kill time. I always try to eat slow, but it seemed like I finished before them. Before i knew it, I had ate way too much bread IMO. But i felt like I couldn't stop and it was so good. So I decided to purge it. I ate all but 2 of them, drank water inbetween, dunked them in salad dressing. Got up and threw my plate away, and went into the bathroom.
Danielle knows I have an eating disorder so I worried she would notice I was quickening my pace at the end of my meal and she would defiently notice if I took awhile in the one stall bathroom, so I hurried and purged. The bread came up first and fast, and then a large lump of salad. I stopped there. I didn't need to purge everything and I didn't have time. I cleaned up fast and came out with a smile. Danielle smiled back and her boyfriend appeared oblivious. We bike rided home.
At home, I binged. Last night's purge has to be on top 2 of the worse purges ever. I took hours, I ate way way too much food, and went to bed right before the sun came up. I hated myself. All my purges have been really sloppy for the last couple weeks and I know I've gained weight. A lot of weight because of it. I'm taking way too long. My OCD is in full rage and I can't stop attacking my body. my body is full of scabs and holes and bruises from squeezing at one spot over and over. Last night my victim was my legs and now they hurt so bad this morning. What happens is I can't get myself to stop attacking my body and start purging, so I take hours. It's ridiculous and stupid. Sometimes I'll be leaned over the toilet and picking at my legs, so my back hurts really bad the next morning because I'l be leaned over for literally an hour or so. Last night I binged on so so much food so not only did I take too long because of picking at myself, but because the purge was big. I took two sleeping pills at 5:30 AM and decided I wanted to sleep a long time. My dad woke me up at 2 in the afternoon wondering if I was awake and okay. I told him yes and that I was just up late. I wanted to say no, and that I'm sad and I hate myself, and please make things better.
I saw my drug doctor Tuesday of this week. He didn't perscribe any drugs. He asked me if I was "still in my eating disorder" because I "look good". I said yes. I'm just fat. Thanks. I wanted to cry. I know i've gained weight, asshole. I told him I was abusing diet pills and that might have something to do with the nausea I expierenced while on Luvox and the OCD tendencies. He just said "ya, you shouldn't take diet pills for more then week". I know that, stupid. Do you think I like wrecking myself with pills? He didn't seem to know what to say or what to ask. There was a lot of awkward pauses. I answered honestly to everything. He would say "How are things with family, school, transportation?" And I answered "My mom is getting worse, I enrolled for school but I'll probably withdraw, my car is in the shop." I don't know if he didn't prescribe me anything because I won't take anything consistenly, or because I abuse everything, or because nothings working, or just what. He just ended the appointment with "Well, I'll continue to pray for you." And I wanted to scream and hit him. I wanted to say "Fuck you. Don't pray for me. Gimmie a fucking magic pill because I want to kill myself."
I'm so sick of life. I woke up this morning after my marathon purge last night and I felt like i could barely stand up. I felt fat as fuck, for one thing, and my body kind of confirmed that. I showered, took 4 diet pills of two types, and microwaved frozen peas. I told myself I'm not going to purge today because my body is about to collapse but i honestly don't know if I can keep that promise even after last night and how sore I am and how much my throat is burning. I wish my diet pills worked how they still did because they would keep my appetite down. I don't know why I am taking them still if they don't do fuck.
My hands won't quit shaking.
I can't stop thinking about how my mom called me Ms. Piggy yesterday and my doctor said I look good and must not be in my eating disorder. I want to e-mail Julio and tell him if he doesn't have an update in the treatment center when I see him next week i'm going to jump off a fucking cliff.
I'm seriously sick of this. I'm sick of feeling like I can't go through a day without purging. Like my day isn't complete with a binge.
Two nights ago I had a spontaneous binge at like, 7 PM. I couldn't wait till my dad went to bed as I usually do. After I purged, at like 11, I decided to go to the grocery store to get 94% fat free popcorn because i'm insane like that. I got dressed and shit and drove over there at like, midnight. I ended up getting binge food, planning for the next day. I spent like an hour there. I couldn't decide on anything and I wanted the food to be perfect. I wasn't even really looking at the prices of the food. When the cashier rung things up it came to 25 dollars and something cents. I was so shocked because I've never spent that much at once...MAYBE in one day i've spent that much but not in one go. I put in my club card number and it went down to 18 dollars and something cents but that still is more then i've forked over at once and i wanted to kick myself because i just bought a bunch of shit i didn't even really want and i could've got much better food or something WORTH it like a nice shirt or something.
I went home and made my popcorn (i actually did get that in addition to my food) and ate the whole bag and felt guilty adn hungry. I made another bag and ate it too. Then I felt bloated and fat and wanted to purge the popcorn. I decided if I'm going to purge I should eat a little more. I got my cereal out from my binge food, and had a bowl of cereal and some cookies and....kept going. I had a binge on top of my other binge from earlier and made a dent in my food that was suppose to be for the next day and beyond. I seriously felt like killing myself.
I'm seriously a fucking nut job.