31 December 2009
I'm also incredibly cranky. All of my friends were drinking last night, and I know for a fact that a few of them drove. W was one of them. He also happpened to be driving around with this one girl who I don't care for, and she automatically becomes a slut when she's drunk. So, I was worried that a) W was eother going to get in some horrible wreck, or getting a DUI or b)hooking up with Drunken Slut. In my heart I knew he wouldn't do anything with her, because I really think that he's better than that. Or at least, I'd like to think that. I couldn't sleep. He called me at about to wish me a happy New Year. I told him it was the New Year yet. I went to bed after that. Halfway Relieved.
29 December 2009
I didnt break 1000 today.
I'm hungry; It's wonderful.
Love you always,
28 December 2009
I'm scared that I'm not going to be able to start restricting once I get back to school. I'm scared that I'm going to always be this way, that I'm always going be fat.
27 December 2009
26 December 2009
Anyways. I had a really shitty eating day today. Yesterday was better, suprisingly.
I somehow managed to restrict all day yesterday, due to my mother's ditraction for the majority of the day. My friends and I had a Christmukkah party. We all got together and had a lovely time and no one commented on my eating, or lack there of. It was so nice to feel someone's arms pressed into your ribs, his hand over your protruding vertabrae in the small of you back. I know it's too early to tell, but I think I might have found something good. Hopefully, maybe, might have found something good.
Not much else to write about.
Love you always,
24 December 2009
23 December 2009
We left after that set, a group of seven I think, to go smoke at the hookah bar downtown by the university. I rode with W, a guy I met a few nights before at my other friends party. We sat next to each other at the bar, which is outside. It was freezing. He gave me his jacket, and then went to the car to get my jacket. I didn't have to ask. Everyone except for me, W, and this other guy, C, left to go to some party. The three of us went to McDonalds. W bought me a Diet Coke, after insisting on getting me something and insisting that I don't need to be drinking diet. We sat in there for a long time, until C had to leave. W asked me if I'd like to see a movie with him, and I said yes, so I guess I have a date today. We just rode around for a really long time after that, and we talked. We both love Classical and Folk music and NPR and Bob Dylan. He says he'd go gay for Sting, and I realized that I know exactly who Sting is and what he looks like and all, but I have no clue what his music sounds like. He said he'll bring a CD for me. He walked me to the door when he dropped me off, which hasn't happened to me before I don't think. He gave me a peck on the cheek goodnight and left. I've had this little slight smile on my face since. And I think I'll be happy for a while.
Love you all,
21 December 2009
10 December 2009
I'm looking at my roomates thighs. They remind me a little of cellulite-covered hams.
06 December 2009
Hey, Margaret. About Messiah, I want to ask you a favour. Do you think you could learn the Rejoice Greatly air? Yeah, I'd really appreciate it. I think you can do it. No, Kelly can't do it. Yeah, she can't hold that a. That'd be great. Thanks.
You just had to ask me to do one of the hardest airs in the whole damn symphony. Guess who's going to blow it?
Yep, that's it. FUN.
04 December 2009
02 December 2009
01 December 2009
If I actually stick to it (I better fucking stick to it) I should be really ahead on everything.
Want lunch, Margie? Do your fucking math homework.
Want a snack? Start your midterm paper.
Want dinner? Get in that studio and buffbuffbuffbuff.
Want another snack? Take your goddamn adderal and work on that paper.
I'm also trying to find some effective diet pills. Any suggestions?
Love you always,
30 November 2009
25 November 2009
24 November 2009
Yes. Losing inches is good.
23 November 2009
You've gone off five times in the past twenty minutes. I would like to let you know that I am sick, fasting, didn't sleep at all last night and am quite cranky.
Oh, there you are again. Six times. You are making me deaf. Oh look, you turned off again.
Please let me sleep, and stop lying.
Thank you kindly.
22 November 2009
20 November 2009
19 November 2009
It wasn't too bad (macncheesewholegrainpastapicklescabbage) and it could have been much worse. I hadn't taken any of my meds for the past few days, so I had no sense of discipline or self-control. I want to weigh in, but I decided I'm not going to until after I finish this fast. Which sadly, is only going to be until tomorrow at lunch time, because my mom and dad are coming to have a meeting with my math teacher because I am not doing so hot in math. So they're taking me to lunch (maybe, I'm going to try to get out of it) and then to dinner, and then home. Where they will shovel me full of food and talk about how thin I am.
I'm having a two day fast when I get back to prepare myself for the HELL that Thanksgiving will be. If anyone has tips about avoiding gorging during thanksgiving, I would appreciate them so so so greatly.
Sorry for the rambling and unorganized thoughts, I am a bit manic right now.
Love you always,
17 November 2009
16 November 2009
13 November 2009
12 November 2009
I had another awful binge day yesterday.
Therefore, I will be fasting until Saturday.
My birthday's Sunday.
I refuse to eat cake.
Yay for being able to be tried as an adult and legally move out.
Big girl jail...Woohoo.
Love you always,
10 November 2009
09 November 2009
Where are you?
Where are you?
In your head, swirling amongst their voices.
Shaking. It's cold; you're freezing. Why don't you wear your coat?
What's wrong with you?
What's wrong with you?
Look at you, fidgeting in your chair. You don't hold still.
You squeeze your eyes shut. Escape.
Staring. There's food; you're starving. Why don't you eat?
What's wrong with you?
What's wrong with you?
08 November 2009
I can't tell if food today was bad or good.
Fat wise, it was terrible. Calories wise, it was decent.
(I'm so ready to get out of this mood)
d- vegetable chilli (330, 4g) espresso (2, 0g)
s- reese's cups (160, 10g) pickles (10, 0g)
e- walking 45 min.(-121)
total: 381, 14g.
Love you always.
07 November 2009
Two weekends of funerals is too much.
Blair's funeral was easily one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed. The church was completely full, and not a single eye in the building was dry. It was so different than Mammy's funeral.
I'm completely exhausted. Losing two people in one week..
You never expect these things to happen.
There are so many questions I'm asking right now. So many things I'm regretting.
Terrible food day.
I'm going to bed.
Love you always.
05 November 2009
It was just last week we last talked on the phone.
I can't believe he's gone. I can't believe none of us knew.
And through the loss and sadness of it all, I can't help but be a little angry at him.
Bud, why'd you have to leave so soon?
Why didn't you tell us?
I'm gonna miss you, Bud. A whole hell of a lot.
I love you. Rest in peace, Blair.
20 November 1992- 4 November 2009.
04 November 2009
So. I adore my new heels.
My mind is rather messy today. I cleaned everything today, except my mind. I went on a two-hour adderal/caffeine fueled cleaning/organizing/gutting/reorganizing/wrestling coat hangers spree.
I just wish I could do the same thing with my head, because I can't think. And it's quite quite quite bothersome.
I'm still exhausted. I just want to sleepsleepsleepsleephibernatesleep. I don;t know what to do with my tired self.
I had a decent food day, except of the rediculous amount of FAT that I ate.
b- protein bar(210, 7g)
l- protein bar (210, 7g)
d- unagi nigri (108, 5g)
e- 45 min brisk walking (-121)
total: 407, 19g !!!
bad, bad, bad, bad fat Margie!!!!
Love you always,
03 November 2009
02 November 2009
01 November 2009
Love you always.
31 October 2009
Wake up. Eat. Leave school. Realize I don't have shoes or a dress that are appropriate for a funeral. Spend too much time looking for one. Fount it. Eat. Call home. Funeral's tomorrow? What? That's too fast. Visitation's tonight? What? That's too fast. Get home. Shower. Get back in the car. Drive two hours. Visit with family. Eat eat eat eat. Drive to funeral home. Open-casket. Try not to look. Sit in recieving line. "She looks so pretty, doesn't she?" That's not her...she's not the same. "She looks just like you. You have her eyes." Wrong. She had brown eyes. "She looks so peaceful, doesn't she?" Her mouth is stretched so tight...it's not the same. "Are they feeding you up at that school?" Awkward smile, awkward nod. "Your grandmother was a wonderful, beautiful woman." I know. She was. She really was. Go back to Grandparents' house. Eat eat eat eat eat. Drive two hours. Get home. Sleep.
Wake up. Drive two hours. Wait on hearse and limo. Get poked at by great aunts. "Oh, Margaret! We've got to put some weight on these bones!" Ride to the church. Wait for service to start. Walk in. Sit in front row. I can't believe she's in there... Amazing grace, how sweet.... Cry. Watch family cry. Blessed be the tie that binds... Walk out behind her. I still can't believe she's in there. Ride to burial site. Say goodbye... Talk to lots of distant relatives and people I don't know or remember. Ride back to the church. Eat, eat, eat. Go home. Eat, eat, eat, eat. Sleep. Wake up. Eat. Visit friends. Borrow a costume. Consider going to a big party with friends, decide against it. Find four or five friends. Spend Halloween sober, in a basement, on a couch with a great group of people. Five good friends get arrested at the party I almost went to. Eat. Watch malcom in the middle. Laugh. Live.
Love you always.
29 October 2009
I don't feel much like writing.
Now I'm old and feeling grey;
I don't know what's left to say
about this life I'm willing to leave.
I lived it full,
and I lived it well;
there's many tales I lived to tell.
I'm ready now;
I'm ready now.
I'm ready now to fly
from the highest wing.
I had a dream.
Love you always,
28 October 2009
I am roughly 93-90 lbs. Everything I wear is too big and baggy, even though it fit me not too long ago. I care. Alot. I want those clothes to get baggier, looser. I don't feel good with myself. My walk is like a cross between a crackhead and an old woman's; back hunched, gaze directed downward or to nowhere in particular, shuffling along quickly and aimlessly. I look at myself in the mirror, brush the thinning, dulling hair away from my eyes, poke, pull and prod at various bulges that may or may not exist and glare.
27 October 2009
26 October 2009
25 October 2009
24 October 2009
23 October 2009
total: 62, 0
22 October 2009
It's like there's a part of me that wants to fail.
They're mostly of things that I love, things that I miss, nostalgic things, etc. I'm sure they aren't that interesting. But I don't have much to say today, and pictures are woth a thousand words.
My old pony, Sirrocko. I was happy then.
His eyes. They're gorgeous.
l- 1/2 of a salad (25, 0)
d- protein bar (170, 4.5)
e- walking downtown (-124)
total: 71, 4.5
Love you always.
Why is it double spaced?! That's quite, quite aggravating.
21 October 2009
He was quiet today. He didn't want to seem to talk to me.
He was almost twenty minutes late.
We were eating dinner. My roommate joined us. She flirted with him.
I think he flirted back. My roommate joked about my dying gradmother.
They both commented on my weight.
I just want to run back to the way things used to be.
Before everything went wrong.
I'm so fucking tired.
8:34 pm, EST.
"Hey, listen. I'm really sorry about dinner. I know you wanted it to be just us."
"Come downstairs if you can."
I went, and there he was, just getting back from the grocer's. His long, curly hair was in a ponytail, with the bits of hair that had fallen out around his face. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. I always forget how handsome he is.
He had two bags. He reached inside the bag in his left hand, and pulled out a jar of pickles.
"Your favorite kind."
"That they are." I was smiling. I reached for them.
"Hang on there, mon petite fille."
He twisted off the top, something I always have trouble with.
"There you go. And, I'm sorry."
He held me close and kissed the top of my head. We said goodnight, and went our own ways.
And as for the clouds, just let them roll away.
Love you always.
20 October 2009
I will get it off. Oh, I will get it off.
I will get it off and more.
So. I have a plan: a new diet. I mentioned it earlier, but it's been revised.
The only thing I'm changing is adding fruits and veggies to the list
Low fat and low cal.
I'm hoping it will work.
My mind is all over the place.
I'm super jittery from probably taking too much addy.
I'll cut back tomorrow.
l- ~1 cup salad- lettuce, 2 slices tomato, 4 slices cucumber, 5 slices onion (21, 0.3)
s- orange (40, 0)
total: 61, 0.3
Very good day.
Love you always,
19 October 2009
18 October 2009
am fat and gooey and mushy all over and I HATE it. There is no muscle, just goo. Pudge. Pudding. Yes, I am covered in pudding, that’s what. My body is merely a Ziploc bag full of pudding. Squishy, nasty pudding.
Dearest, sweetest mother,
Please please please please refill my adderal prescription so I can concentrate (on dieting and fasting diligently) and get my work done on time and thoroughly (so I can exercise more) and raise my grades (and lower the obscene number on the scale.)
You are the best,
I’m subconsciously beginning to wean myself off of food again; I catch myself calculating, counting measuring everything that I put into my fat, greasy mouth. I catch myself counting the number of times I chew, and spitting unnecessary food into my napkin. Drinking excessive amounts of anything. Filling my gut to the brim, nine parts liquid, one part food.
I felt hunger creep up earlier today. I pleaded with her to please stay but he made me eat.
I want lovely, lovely hunger back. I want her back to stay.
I will eat meal bars for the remainder of the week. And half of one for a snack. If forced.
b- three croissants, five small pancakes
l- ½ a serving of vegetable curry, one mini spring roll
d- meal bar, rice snacks
s- milano cookies, one reese’s cup
A new regime begins tomorrow.
17 October 2009
b- three pieces of bread with pasta sauce
l- black bean soup, 1/4 a baguette, 5 pickles
d- 2 onion tartes, potatoes au gratin, salad, 2 cookies, 1 pudding cup, 3 pieces of chess pie.
s- crackers with red pepper hummus
The sad thing- this is the average amount of food a normal person would eat in a day.
And my body freaks out over it.
Love you always,
I'm shaking all over and I want to crycrycry but I can't because one can always tell I've been crying for the next three hours and I have stuff to do.
I just want to curl up and hibernate forever. If I do that I'll never eat again.
I want to eat. I don't want to eat. I want to eat the whole fucking world. I don't want to eat the whole fucking world.
I've already gained three pounds. It's probably food weight.
Love you always,
16 October 2009
I ended my fast today. And I am eating. Kind of like a normal person.
I really really really really really really want to purge. I'm very uncomfortably full right now. I feel sick and sleepy. Because I've lost my sense of sensible eating, so my eating like a normal person is hurried binging, like if I don't get every bite of food in front of me down in five minutes, someone is going to steal it.
I'm not going to count calories during this time, because I know that I'll probably totally and comepletely lose it and purgepurgepurgepurge. Which I am dying to do right about now....
I'm going out to dinner lately, and then to the State Fair after that. The chances I will binge are EXTREMELY high. Ugh.
I'm feeling incredible shaky and scared. I can feel myself becoming nasty and doughy already. Who knows how long this will last.
b- 2 chocolate croissants, pumpkin spice latte
l- jimmy johns veggie sub
d- tortilla soup
s- french fries, 1/2 a funnel cake
More than I normally eat in two days in two meals. OHMYGODIMGOINGTOFREAKINGDIEOHMYGOD
Love you always,
15 October 2009
FUCK. I need that adderal.
But, I've constructed a plan.
I will gain weight, probably around five pounds. Eight at most. Definately no more than eight. I'll eat and drink loads before her little weigh-in, to add a few pounds of temporary weight. I'll get my adderal and then once I start taking it again, I'll be able to fast and diet and excercize like nobody's business, thanks to addy's incredible appetite crushing ability, and that weight should come right off.
So after I finish this fast, I will start my terrible, horrible, horrifying (I really am terrified...) journey into the realms of my old, fat-covered world.
Ninety five pounds...oof. Sounds cushy and gooey and sticky, like sitting in icing. Gross.
I might actually miss having a prepetually bruised ass. I know I'll miss my creepy clavicle. And my pretty little pointy hipbones. And my stegasaurus spine. And back ribs.
But they will be back. Oh, they will be back and better than ever.
After I get my adderal, I will be starting a partial-liquid diet. I will eat soup! Nice, warm, filling soup. That will deal with my savoury cravings. Pickles (and there lovely juice) will be my salty cravings. Fruit juice will smash my sweet cravings. And for that nasty chocolate craving, I will drink chocolate soy milk. And of course. LOTS of water. And Diet Coke. As always.
Love you always,
14 October 2009
I think I'm having the most exciting day ever. I should be put in the history books.
But- breaking news- I don't even want food today. At all.
I've been drinking lots of weird juices today. I had orange juice for breakfast, and tomato juice for lunch. I had some pickle juice for a snack, and if you like pickles, you should try drinking the juice (sparingly, otherwise you'll become quite ill) because it's incredibly filling. I'm having an odd craving for carrot juice. And fresh marinara sauce. Yum.
Anyways, I haven't got much to say today, because today I am mostly lethargic and don't know what I'm thinking, because I'm not thinking anything. Except for carrot juice. Sweet, sweet carrot juice.
It's freezing cold today, and drizzly.
Love you always,
13 October 2009
So yeah. I fainted around mid-afternoon. It's nothing that unusual for me, because I'm a "fainter," as one might say. I have vaso-vagal hypo tension (low blood pressure), hypoglycemia (low bloodsugar), etc. So I blamed the faint on the vaso-vagal, drank some orange juice and felt fine. But, then a certain suspicious friend sat me down and forced me to have dinner, which I planned on going back and attempting to puke up. So, I went back; I got in the shower, and began to put all my purging research to use. I could feel it working, until my roomate came into the bathroom. And sat on the toilet and asked me about my day.
Why do I have to retch so fucking loud? UGH!
So continuing juice fast tomorrow. Or, restarting.
I hope things start to get better. I can see the weight I've put on.
12 October 2009
(Insert The Saddest Pathetic Sqeak of a Noise Ever Here and You'll Have the Noises I Am Currently Making)
I've given myself a migraine from ramming my fingers down my throat (rather pointlessly, because I'm puking nothing but diet coke and teeny little bits of bread) and I'm sure the entire fucking hall can hear me retching, 'cause Chairman Mao just gave me a call and said, "Would you keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep over here, s'il vous plait!" And I just want to vomit until my stomach comes up with it so I can't ever eat again.
Earlier today, I quite purposefully scalded my tongue to keep myself from binging, but it didn't work, obviously.
I really don't know what to do. I HAVE to be thin. No matter what drastic measures it takes.
I know I say this almost every post, and everytime I mean it stronger and stronger.
I hate myself. I really and truly utterly loathe myself.
11 October 2009
I have been here many times before;
I hurt myself again today,
and the worst part is there's no-one else to blame
There's a voice. It tells me:
Eat. Eat until you can eat no longer, until there is no physical way possible for you to swallow another morsel. This is the last time you will eat for a while.
So I do. I eat until I am gagging with every bite of food that passes through my greasy lips. I eat meringue until there is a sickly-sweet, foamy film that coats my mouth; I eat pickles until my mouth burns from an excess of vinegar. I sit on my bed with crumbs around my mouth, loathing myself and food.
I really don't know what I'm going to do with myself. I'm stuck in a cycle of bingefastbingefastbingefastbingefastfastbingecleansesmallbingefastfatfatfatfatfatfat
I wish I wasn't able to taste. I wish that it was excruciating for me to consume solid foods. I wish I didn't have heaps of fat swallowing me whole. I wish I could look in the mirror and see thinthinthin instead of what I see instead. I wish I could break this cycle and go back to just restricting. I wish just restricting were enough. I wish I was strong.
No food tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, or the next day.
I have lost myself again,
lost myself, and I am nowhere to be found.
I think that I might break;
I have lost myself again and I feel unsafe
10 October 2009
Shortly after we've hung up, my roomate gets in from contra. We're talking like we normally do, and somehow the topic of eating comes up. So she looks at me, all dramatic-like (she is an actress...) and says, "Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you about this. (insert long dramatic pause here) Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but a lot of us have been worried about you lately."
"Oh? Like who? About what?"
"I don't really feel comfortable saying who. But five or six people have come up to me and commented about how unhealthy and skinny you look. You look sick. We've also been noticing that you either don't show up at meals and when you're there you don't eat them... And you know, I've been hearing you run the water when you go into the bathroom, and I always hear you flush multiple times. Don't think I don't know what's going on. I think you have a problem, Margaret."
"Don't be stupid. I eat all the fucking time. You even said so yourself like, three nights ago. You guys are making stupid judgements. There's nothing wrong. I'm just....stressed. That's all. Yeah, I lose weight when I'm stressed."
"Okay then...admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery...."
Then a thought that could only run through the mind of a disgruntled anorexic ran through my disgruntled, anorexic mind: You're only jealous...
I honestly do not know what to do right now. I'm on the verge of break down. I just want to make a nest-burrow out of down comforters and sleep until all of this is over. Sleep forever. Sleep and escape.
So I'm writing this from a laundromat. I just thought that was funny. I really like the laundromat. I like being where I know no one. I love the feeling of being comepletely anonymous.
So I did relatively well with eating today. I didn't have a huge binge, unless you count C&S, which I did a good bit of. My roommate went contra dancing tonight. Although I did a mini-binge on pickles and meringue cookies, but they're both fat-free and pretty low-cal. I'm not too upset. Although I had one regular cookie... three grams of fat.... ughhhhh.
Emotionally, my day was pretty shitty. I was in a bad mood for most of the day, and my dad (even as oblivious as he is) noticed my weight and how little I ate at lunch. I told him "I'm going to fall fest later and will most likely eat like a pig while I'm there!" Later at fall fest, I "forgot my wallet." After fall fest, we had planned to go eat dinner together. I ran to get a shower, and as I got out, he calls: "Hey, I think I'm just gonna go eat with a friend instead. I can bring you something back, if you like." This brought my already non-existant self-esteem down into the negatives. I wouldn't have minded so much if I haven't already been blown-off by so many other people I care about. Being blown-off jsut makes me feel like such a little shit of a person. It's so funny how one little thing like that can make you feel so, so, so badly about yourself.
So then I went to go do laundry. Woohoo.
But, I did a lot of unintentional exercise today, which I am VERY happy about.
So anyways. I'll give you a post-fast photo tomorrow afternoon after a juice clense.
l- 1/3 of a house salad (no dressing), 5 sweet potato fries (64 cals, 1g fat)
d- 1/3 of a easy mac cheesy pizza snack pack (73 cals, 1g fat)
s- 10 pickles, 7 meringue cookies, 1 chocolate chip cookie (318 cals, 3g fat)
e- 2.5 hours standing, 2 hours brisk walking, 15 minutes stairs (-827)
total: -373 cals, 5g fat
09 October 2009
Secondly. My dear, sweet drawing teacher is bringing doughnuts! Yay! Oh, but not just any doughnuts, Krispy Kreme doughnuts! Oh boy! Another fried, sugary blob of fat to tempt Margaret with! Everyone, eat doughnuts! Yummy! I also had to go on one of my little food freak-outs when Thompson even mentioned the word in class today, so everyone will be expecting me to jump on that like white on rice. Hopefully everyone will eat them all, and there won't be any left for me. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, let there be no doughnuts left.
Thirdly. My dad is coming up for a visit along with my little sister. I'm really excited to see them both, but not so excited to eat in front of them. Because what do families do when they get together? Eat, of course!! So I'm thinking going for Chinese and getting an order of steamed veggies and maybe a fortune cookie (they're only 30 cals and fat-free) and a big ol' Diet Coke. Sounds good, yes?
Fourthly. Chances are I'll binge tomorrow. I can't do a C&S deal, my roomates in town all weekend. Any tips on how to keep me from binging? Any tips are greatlygreatlygreatly appreciated.
Wish me luck tomorrow!
08 October 2009
So, first off.
I'm really, really, really getting annoyed at how much of a passive-aggressive bitch my roomate can be. And how hypocritical she is. And how much of a drama queen she is.
She has got it all- she's rich, her parents would do anything for her, her boyfriend is perfect (I'm not exaggerating- he really is perfect) she's gorgeous, and stylish. The list goes on. But all that girl does is bitch and moan. She even bitches about how perfect her life is! I mean, seriously?!
I think I'm mostly jealous. I've never been a "normal" kid, with my issues and all. She has been. And I hate watching her get to be upset about normal teenage stuff.
For instance: she was really upset today because her dad doesn't approve of the two-year age difference between her and her boyfriend. They are still allowed to be together, things are still working out very well, but her dad doesn't like the fact that he's in college. So she had a full-on sobbing breakdown. I think most girls of my age would do that, maybe.
The thing is, I was ready to scream, "Would you just please quit your fucking moaning for one fucking day?! I am going through serious emotional turmoil right now, and you don't see me complaining to everyone about it!!! Who gives a fuck that your dad doesn't like how old your boyfriend is!?!?" I'm really glad I didn't. I almost did.
I wish I got to cry about stuff like that. "Normal" stuff.
Instead I cry over eating a bowl of sprinkles. I cry over gaining a pound.
I cry because I'm weak. I cry because I don't know what might happen to me; I can't answer that classic interview question, "where do you see yourself in five years?" trufully.
Will I even be alive in five years? I don't know.
So, here's start:
And I really like my outfit today. So I though I'd show that too.
Men's flannel, jeans shorts, black hose, dusty boots, and enormous bag. I'm so classy.
07 October 2009
And right now, I'm about ready to castrate him. I'm so angry at him.
We were out today getting coffee, like we do almost everyday. He decided that he wanted Bellacino's. So I agreed to go with him. He orders a personal pizza and oven-baked fries.
When the waiter (who was gorgeous) came with Eric's food, he took it, and we sat down outside. He then proceeded to push the plate of frech fries in front of me.
"These are yours."
"No, I'm fine. I already ate."
"No you didn't; don't lie to me. Eat."
"Eric, I promise you I ate."
He looked at me all seriously. "Eat. It's just a plate of french fries."
I hesitated, wathed the food, felt my stomach beg for food, heard my mind scream scream scream, and I got scared and fidget-y.
"I'm fine. I don't need them."
"Margaret. You scare me more than anyone else I've ever met. You're my best friend and I don't know what I would do without you. So eat the damn fries."
"Eat. Now. I hate to be this guy, but I'm about ready to call your mom. I haven't seen you eat in days, and when you do, it's nothing. Seriously, I am worried about you. I want you to eat. Please."
By now, I had tears in my eyes and was shaking. I've never seen him that legitamately concerned. I wanted to hit him, but I also just wanted to hug him. Mostly hit him though.
I ate the fries. Every single one.
I'm fat and bloated and gross, but I took some laxatives. Maybe I'll say my stomach's upset (which it will be, laxatives hurt me so badly) and I'll get to avoid having to sit, dying of boredom during portfolio prep tonight.
I'll also avoid Eric during mealtimes to avoid eating. He'll catch on though.
Stupid writers...they're too smart. (Just kidding. They're my favorite!)
l- sprinkles (75, 0g fat)
d- oven baked fries (260, 7g fat)
e- walking downtown 45 min. (-189)
total: 249 cals, 7g fat
I'm tracking fat now. I refuse to eat anything with over 20g per serving.
I hope I'm less upset soon.
I ate sprinkles today. A whole goddamn bowl of sprinkles.
I haven't eaten enough to purge, but I can't eat more.
I don't know what to do. I'm drowning in my fat and fear...
I was fasting too! I was doing well!
God, I am such a fuckup.
Fast restarts in
You won't eat again until Saturday at breakfast.
I'm so so lost right now. I really am. I'm nothing more than some crazy little thing wandering aimlessly through the vast white world I'm lost in.
Walking later. I hope to burn some good calories.
06 October 2009
So, I'm texting my ex boyfriend. Why?
Not eating is getting to my head.
I'm going utterly insane. I really am.
I'm crazy. That's all there is to it.
That's what anorexia does to you. Takes over your mind and makes you crazy.
I'm crazy. That's all there is to it.
No food today.
05 October 2009
And lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of drinks. I had a few bites of a veggie burger (sans un petit pain) with onion, tomato and pickle. I caved and had all of like, five fries, and maybe a sixth of a piece of angel food cake.
Even with the absolutely miniscule protions im having, I still feel really guilty.
She lives with a broken mind...
Update: Eric Forced me to eat a piece of coffee cake. I'm so angry.
And then guess what I did!
I really do. Really, and truly. I migh throw out all my food.
That sounds like a plan...
I will do it.
First bridge to cross:
Stop fucking being PMS-y and bloated. You retain. EVERYFUCKINGTHING.
I'm talking six pounds water weight.
Quit breaking fast, Margaret! You're getting fatter by the second.
Get thin. Please oh please oh please pleas please be thin.
l- 1/8 veggie patty, five fries, 1/6 piece of angel food cake (71)
s-piece of coffe cake (390)
04 October 2009
I binged last night. I ate everything. I was out of control. I couldn't purge, they were too many people around. I'm so unbelievably angry at myself. I'm having urges to revert back to old habits; the old habits that at one point in my life almost killed me. Things can't fall apart. They just can't.
Roommate asks during my binge:
"How the hell do you stay so skinny when you eat all the fucking time?!"
I looked at her, with one of those "if looks could kill..." looks. I was angry at myself, at her, at the world.
Why do I do this to myself?! Why do I binge? Why am I cursed to be an eternal fatass?
I need to fast. I miss it. I want to feel that lightness, that beautiful emptiness.
I had a dream last night about weighing myself. I weighed 122 again, like I did back in February. I was screaming and crying and shaking and hitting the scale with my fat little fists. I was doing the things I used to do back in February, only this time I think I did die. I remember crumpling on the bathroom floor and everything going black. And then it was gone. Everything was gone.
So the two-day juice fast starts today, thank God.
I'll be thin again soon enough.
03 October 2009
I ate, reluctanly. But I ate almost kind of (probably not really..) like a normal person. I am bloated and I feel sick and fat, but I did it. Kind of.
Lunch with mother was okay. She force fed me chex mix, and she lectured me on my weight some more and how I looked like a little refugee in my size zero jeans that are now falling off of me. But I took it like a man; I didn't listen. I didn't want to get all upset and have my day ruined.
I went shopping, and got a lovely new (enormous!) purse, some new tights, a hat with a feather in it, a flannel shirt that's delightfully oversized, a pair of shoes, and a pretty blazer. What would we do without retail therapy?
I can't take another meal today; I'm still working up my digestive strength. I'm also going on a two-day juice fast starting tomorrow to cleanse my system of all that nasty food I ate this weekend, and after that, nothing but fruits and veggies for me!
I'm working on some sort of plan. I'll let you all know when I figure it out.
l- teriyaki vegetables, spring rolls, 1/2 a frozen yogurt (317)
s- 100 calorie pack, chex mix (256)
e- walking 45 min. (-138)
02 October 2009
The first thing she did was comment on my declining weight...it came up in conversation quite a few times. It was really awkward and uncomfortable and I wanted to cry the whole time.
She and I went to a fusion place, they serve Mexican and Japanese food. I had a mexican salad consisting mostly of fruit and salsa and lettuce and beans. I skipped the sour cream and the guac. It was one of those gigantic numbers, where the waiter comes out with a whole platter full of salad and expect you to feel healthy after eating all five hundred calories of it.
I ate half of it.
My mom watched me carefully while I ate; I think she did more watching me eat than actually eating. I tried my best to eat like a normal person. The last thing I want is to be put into some god-forsaken clinic.
It was really painful, expanding my stomach that much after having it be completely empty for nearly five days. It still really hurts. I told myself I wouldn't purge.
I tried to as soon as I got back, of course. I broke down curled up around the toilet.
I couldn't make it come up.
So, I went to the gym and worked out for an hour. I spent an entire forty five minutes, half crying from disgust, pain, and the number I saw on the scale, on the eliptical and fifteen doing my abs. Do you know how hard it is to run on the eliptical machine and cry at the same time? The saddest part is that I didn't even try to stop crying because I'm convinced it burned more calories than just ellipticals alone.
I'm eating lunch tomorrow with my mom. Please wish me luck.
And- thank you all so much for the support and love. I can't tell you all how touched I was to get all your sweet comments. I love you all very, very much! You're amazing, truly.
I'm trying hard to get myself a little more healthy...but I don't know. I feel disgusted with myself about how self destructive I am sometimes, yet I can't stop. I'll never be thin enough.
I'm still a bloated mess.
d- mexican salad(223)
e- weights and ellipical (-265)
I'm hungry; I'm hungrier than I've ever been, but food, even just the way it looks, is disgusting to me right now. I could hardly choke down a glass of water at breakfast today.
While we were walking to breakfast, I realized that he has changed with the season. There's something about him that's different; I can't put my finger on it. I'm not sure if I like it.
We were sitting at our usual table outside, surrounded by the cold, the beautiful, wonderous magical cold. I was shivering violently.
"Want some waffle?"
I shook my head no.
Again, I shook my head.
"What about some grapes? Or pineapple?"
"No, I'm fine."
"You'd be warmer if you ate every now and then. I haven't seen you eat since...I don't even remember when."
He looked at me with those eye of his, those piercing blue eyes. The ones that look right into me, look right through me sometimes, searching me throughout. They break through my shell and read me. They see every flaw; they point it out. They tell me I'm sick. They know that I'm sick.
"Please, Margaret. Just eat a bite."
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'll be okay; just don't worry about it, okay?"
Please. Please stop worrying about it. There's nothing you can do.
I look sick. My cheekbones protrude, and I feel like my eyes have become sullen. My skin is greying. You can see the blue outlines of my veins in my hands, my arms, my hips, my face. I feel sick. I'm so incredibly weak. I can hardly make it up a flight of stairs; I'm always headache-y and dizzy. My fingernails and toenails are blue. I'm cold, no matter what I do. My hair is falling out. I'm getting lanugo on my back and face. I am sick.
I have let this disease take over me. But I don't want it to leave me either. I won't let it.
I am truly afraid of what might happen to me.
My parents are coming up this weekend. They won't be happy.
01 October 2009
When I weighed today, I was 90.3. Lowest ever. In a way, I'm beaming with pride, but I'm also slightly disgusted with myself. I have no idea why. It's like I want to keep shrinking, but it make me sick to do this to myself. But it makes me sicker when I don't. Im just really confused right now, I guess.
There's a chance I could be in the eighties by tomorrow. Woohoo?
I end my fast on Saturday. But I might keep going. I think I'll just see how I'm feeling. I'll keep on fasting, but then if I really have to eat, I'll have a salad or something.
I feel absolutely horrible right now. I want to shrivel up and disappear forever. Maybe I will one of these days.
One of these days...
So new weight means new stats and a new weight goal. One that kind of scares me.
Tummy today... a little bloated from all the water I've been drinking. I still want to be thinner...I have to be thinner.
Oh, fall. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
When I walked with him to eat breakfast, or rather to watch him eat, I felt fall for the first time. There isn't fall in my hometown. There is hot, sticky summer for most of the year, then a few weeks of winter then summer starts again. Where I live now, we have seasons. Winter, spring, summer, and fall. Fall is so beautiful. I was deliriously cold while we sat together. I was shivering and smiling like a maniac. It was almost magical.
I still haven't unthawed.
Be my friend.
Hold me; wrap me up.
I am small and needy.
Warm me up,
and breathe me.
30 September 2009
You really enjoy attention, don't you? So, now that I can't feel you being hungry, you have to go and scream about it. If you don't quiet down, drastic meaures will be taken.
Please shut the hell up.
Thank you kindly.
I was up with a horrid headache until four thirty last night. I went to the nurse to get my dailies, and she took one look at me and said, "You look horrible. You should rest and take it easy until your afternoon classes."
I could have kissed that woman. I'm tired, cranky, and I just want to sleep, and that's what I get to do until the dreaded Art History this afternoon. Well, at least it's only two hours long, and not four...
(insert tired and disgruntled mumbling sound here)
So, Art history wasn't that bad today. although my teacher's kind of crazy and she yelled at me for no apparent reason, which really upset me, but I blame the fasting entirely.
But there is one thing I have got to stop doing; hoarding food. I have like seven boxes of really weird food I'm never going to eat, and like thirteen boxes of junk food I also won't ever eat. It's really breaking my wallet. I spent twenty-five dollars today at Publix. I bought a bag of chips, swiss rolls, mozzarella & mushroom veggie burgers, reese's cups, sugar cookies, choclate chip cookies, tomato trinity, potato salad and mac 'n cheese. I'm fasting for christ's sake! Ugh.
But on a lighter note (you're so punny! hahahaha.) I weighed in today...
weight- 93 lbs
I'm quite happy about that.
a very tired, headache-y and light Margie.
29 September 2009
Although I did kind of do the whole, "Well, I'm not going to eat any guac myself, but is it cool with you if I watch you eat it? I mean, I know it kinda creeps you out and all, but whatever," deal. And it sure smelled nice. Wow, it smelled good.
Okay. Done with that.
But, the temptation gets worse. Cake.
Today is my suitemate's birthday, so we're going to the park to have cake.
I plan on drinking around three cans of Diet Coke in around fifteen minutes so I'll feel disgusting and won't even want to look at the cake.
I will stay strong! (insert some sort of battle cry here)
And to all you other fast-ers: you stay strong too! (another battle cry)
No cake for me, thanks!
Yesssss. No cake is good.
You're happy when you're empty. You're light when your empty. You're happy when you're light.
You'll be thin soon enough. Soon enough.
Er made me go to the grocer's with him, and I was all over the place.
I was actually rather enjoying myself, kind of. Well. Enough.
I wanted soup so bad. Something really cheesy and rice-y. Anyways, Eric had to grab me by the wrist and pull me away from somethings, he said I was freaking people out, and that normal people don't pick up every can of soup/bag of chips/box of cheesecake/can of refried beans/block of cheese/bar of chocolate/what-have-you and walk around the store once with it, smelling it while gnawing on a tube of toothpaste, and then put it back in the wrong place.
At one point I was even chewing on my own finger.
But the first day is the day where I'm most ravenous and food crazy.
Days two and three are the ones where I feel tired and depressed.
After that, I'm home free. (Ahg, sounds way too much like home fries...which I smell right now. I think I'm imagining it though...STOPTHINKINGABOUTFOODMARGARET!)
Okay, maybe I get a little crave-y.
Holy guacamole, Batman. I just remembered that my 2d teacher claims to make the best guac ever and that he's bringing it today for class.
I have to sit in close proximity to a big, whopping bowl of my most favourite food maybe in the whole world for four fucking hours straight.
Great. Just great. Fabulous.
Freak out, freak out, freak out.
And knowing me, I'll do something really weird/embarassing. Like stand over the guacamole and smell it, and look at it with my mouth opened accidentally. Or even better, reach for a chip, then realize what I'm doing, and hit my own hand away from the bowl and scream, "NO!" That always gets a few looks.
CURSES TO YOU, MEXICO, FOR MAKING YOUR FOOD SO DAMN GOOD!
I'll let you know how I do.
It's gonna be a long day.
28 September 2009
I wish that I was beautiful.
I wish that things would get better more quickly.
I wish people didn't have to die.
I wish that I didn't put off everything until last minute.
I wish that relationships weren't so complicated and confusing.
I wish that two people could be in love and that was that.
I wish I was thin.
I wish a lot of things.
I wish too many things.
Sometimes I begin to believe that that's all life is becoming. Wishes.
27 September 2009
I guess I'll just call it preparation for a five day fast.
So lets do some math:
After two days of fasting, my body turns to itself (my heaps of fat) for sustainance. After that, the average person loses about a pound a day. If I fast from Tuesday morning to Saturday night, five days, that should be a about three pounds. Ninety-one pounds. Thats sounds so beautiful. Ninety-one. Ninety-one. Ninety-one.
I'm not even going to add up this weekend's calories; I'll end up having a major freak-out/purge-fest. So to keep myself occupied from my horrid self indulgence, I curled my hair. And I really like it curly.
I'm so so so full. I want to cry. I would, if I wasn't about to go pose for my friend some more.
I don't know why I get used as a model; I really don't think I'm pretty, I'm short as anything, and I'm horribly awkward in front of the camera. I never know what to do. I just kind of look at it with a lost and slightly disgruntled expression, and he loves it.
Anyways. Off to the studio.
I'll leave you with a picture of my curly hair.
Love you, Margie.
self-esteem=zero. Zero point fucking zero zero zero. Actually, more like negative fifteen thousand, nine hundred forty eight.
So, tonight I get up on the scale. The needle rockets up. I slide the bottom weight to fifty, the top to forty five. Nothing. Ninety five is too light. I slide it up to forty six, nothing. Seven. Eight. Nine. One hundred. The needle moves. It centres.
My heart is litterally about to fall out of my ass. I get pale.
"NO! That's not right. It's not right. No. No. No."
It gets better. I start to cry. No, not by myself, in the comfort of my own bathroom. I start to cry in the middle of a crowded hall, filled with my piers and classmates. My best friend, Er, sat with his arm around me, trying his best to convince me that that particular scale is off by five pounds, and that the scale in the fitness centre is right. I still couldn't believe him. Just seeing that number on the scale, wrong or not, got to me. Iwanted to die. I really did. He went into the whole, "Margie, you are so thin. You really are. And even if you weren't, it wouldn't matter. You worry all of us, and I know you know that. And besides, you haven't even gained any weight! I saw last time you weighed yourself! That scale is off, and don't say it's not. The nurse said so herself." By now, I had several more people gathered around me, rubbing my arms, and putting their hands on my knees, offering me those cliche words of "comfort," the words that make me want to hit somebody: "Oh, Margaret, you're so skinny. You're so pretty." I hate them.
I hate everyone.
I hate me.
1) Please stop making my little sister so darn sweet, and keep her from buying me giant Reese's cups.
2) Please, somehow or another, make Mexican food fall off the face of the planet. (Or you could always just give me at least an ounce or two of self control.)
3) Make me stop eating so darn much so I'd stop having to ram my fingers down my throat and taking so many laxies.
4) Please keep me from buying food, so I might actually have some money every once in a while.
5) Please, if you can't do any of those, just make me thin.
Hope that isn't too much trouble.
26 September 2009
You ask yourself: Why can't I be that thin?
And then you realize just how messed up and sick you are.
So you go into bathroom down the hall and cry.
25 September 2009
24 September 2009
I feel icky and full.
Although, I don't regret the mini fruit binge I went on.
I love fruit almost as carrots.
What is it with me and orange foods?!
We ate breakfast together again today, you had a waffle. I had my little bowl, filled to the brim with assorted fruits.
He put a forkful of his syrup covered waffle in front of my nose. "I know want some of my delicious waffle, don't you?" He said.
He has the whitest teeth.
"Nah, I'm good with my fruit."
"Come on! Eat it. You know you want to..." He moved it to closer to my mouth.
I dodged it at first, but then he got me, right under my nose.
I still smell like syrup.
We ate sushi tonight.
I ate way too much; he looked worried cause I didn't eat everything on my plate, even though I had been eating off of his.
"Why don't you ever finish your food?"
"I just don't like eating too much, and I already ate too much already."
"You never eat enough. You're looking even smaller."
Secretly I glowed inside, but I frowned at him.
"I can't help it. It's just the way I am."
And I'm not gonna change it.
"I worry about you sometimes."
b- assorted fruit (62)
l- two rice cakes with salsa and cheese (140)
d-12 pieces sushi (290)
e-brisk walking, 45 minutes (-188)
23 September 2009
I can tell I've lost inches too, my jeans are looking really saggy.
I'll try to get a picture up ASAP.
I'm so happy.
I'm going for a five day fast in two weeks.
Height: 5'2.5" (158.8 cm)
Weight: 94.5 lbs (42.8 kg)
b- 1/4 waffle (90)
l- tomato basil soup (80)
s-crackers, sprinkles & cereal (250)
e-stairs and an hour of brisk walking (-223)