I hate purging. Especially bread, especially cheese. I need to stop. Sorry for my angry post earlier. I'll be good now.
So starting NOW, I'm not going to eat. I'm only allowed to purge once a day, and that's reserved for dinner that I can't geto ut of. I will lose all this fat. I will. I have to.
It sucks that every time I see a reflection, all I can think of is "damn, who is that fat ass girl?" And it turns out to be me. I don't even recognize myself anymore. I'm not me.
I miss my collar bones. I miss my hip bones. I miss being able to trace my ribs and my spine. I hate that my thighs touch, and that when I sleep on my stomach, there's a bulge instead of a little curve inwards. I'm so weak. Help me Ana. Help me, followers. I need your strength.
I had a dream that a man with an axe came into my room. Instead of freaking out, I only said "Please leave my diet pills. you can take anything else. And can you cut this ridiculous blubber off?" So he let me take my diet pills, and he cut off my stomach. It was, strangely, the best dream I've had lately.
I've taken to hiding my diet pills under my matress, since there seems to be a theif in the house. I suspect dear old mother, but of course no one listens to me, and I'm the prime suspect. Because I totally stole money and diet pills from myself. Idiots.
I want to move out and live on welfare. Then I can write my books and not eat and be left alone. I can forget about life and work out at the Y, or in the park or something. Working out is totally free. Pigging out is expensive. Economically, anorexia is the way to go.
That's all I can really think of right now. I want to purge the diet coke I drank, but I'm fighting it. Purging more will only fuel the addiction. I feel hopelessly alone here. I wish I could get some comments (hint, hint.)