stressed is desserts backwards

(via pit-a-patwenttheheartofmissmouse)

• Reblogged from sore-thumbelina

• June 19, 2009, 10:57am

• Permalink

To ponder.

I ate. Not much, but I ate. And I feel like shit for it. Three small tortilla chips. I only ate three small fucking tortilla chips and I feel ten pounds heavier because of it. I don’t even know if I should count this as breaking my fast. I can hear the voices arguing in my head. Technically, you broke it. So why not eat some more? Enjoy yourself. I try not to listen to that one. I really fucking try. Don’t eat anymore, you fat fuck! You can still continue the fast, it was only three little chips! You’ll work off that itsy-bitsy calorie intake when you do your exercises later. That’s the good voice. I should listen, but my stomach is growling and there’s a four-cheese frozen pizza in the freezer shouting my name, begging for me to place it on the counter and preheat the oven. The battling voices continue. You can always start tomorrow, for real this time! You can get the temptation out of the way now. You have your entire life to complete a seven-day fast! The offer sounds good. No, not tomorrow, NOW! If you break now you’ll just be repeating yourself again. Do you really wanna be trapped in the same endless, guilty cycle? I think yes and no. If you do eat now, at least it’ll help prevent them from getting suspicious about your eating habits. My stomach protests. I’m almost convinced by the bad voice. I don’t know what I should do. The temptation has grown too strong. I am weak, I am ugly.

Today, I realized that I have two best friends: Ana and Bee (Binging).
I need balance, I need control.

I think about it, and I know that eating will cause a huge rush of endorphins in my manic brain. A feeling that nothing else can make me feel. The need to indulge. Excuse me, the desire. But, I also know that immediately after I stuff my face, taste the exciting flavor, and inevitably, gain weight, I’ll feel huge, unnerving, uncaring, relentless pangs of guilt. The pangs of an ugly body grown uglier. I shouldn’t contribute to my self-hate, it’ll only bring bad upon myself. Yet, I still hunger…

On the other hand, I know that waking up in the morning with an empty stomach will cause a whole different set of endorphins to grace my skull. The endorphins that make me feel one minute step closer to becoming beautiful, to becoming lovely. A lovely twig. I sigh at the thought. I need that, I need control. I need to adore my lovely bones, just waiting behind ugly, hideous patches of fat that I can get rid of if I just avoid one indulgence. If I just occupy myself long enough to realize that I don’t need food, and that food is fucking disgusting. If only…

I embarass myself.

I talked to my “dad” for the first time in a long time today. (Thanks, mom.) I don’t even know how I can sit here and put on a smile for him. He certainly doesn’t deserve it. How can I act like he never touched me? Like he never abused me in any way? Like he never abused my psychotic mother or my hopeless brother?

Sometimes I wonder if he’s the reason that I’m so fucked up.

• Tags:
  • anorexia
  • fasting
  • binging
  • abuse

• June 18, 2009, 9:52pm

• Permalink

Slow, good morning.

After a series of strange but familiar dreams, I awake to day one.

A nice, large, ice-cold cup of water to start my day. I can feel the control under my skin. When my stomach growls, I am proud. Every day that I starve is another step towards happiness, towards being a lovely twig. A beautiful twig. This red string around my left wrist will no longer go unnoticed, it will no longer be in vain. I can do this, and I will.

Ever notice how all of your favorite food appears in the house as soon as you start being strict with yourself again? It doesn’t matter. I am strong enough.

Good morning, lovelies. =]

• Tags:
  • anorexia
  • fasting
  • binging

• June 18, 2009, 10:12am

• Permalink