(no subject)
I thought that I was getting better. I was (am) listening to my body, eating well, and exercising. As of yesterday, I had only breakfast didn't eat the rest of the day.I was fine with that. When I woke up, I didn't feel hungry, but had a banana. Fuck. I thought it was okay, but now I feel like I am falling into anorexia. When I invision myself at 107, I see stick thin legs, but that cannot be achieved at 107. 97? Yes. I am 5'3''; I am suppose to be small. I am suppose to be fucking thin. Instead I am a big muscled gymnast weighing in the 120's. I am going to be thin. I know it, but with time. I have control and I don't think it will leave. I know it won't. September 5 will be my judgement day.
I am depressed. I am tired, but my mom won't let me sleep. Give me the vicodin. I feel fat yes. I no longer compare myself though. I don't envy those thinner than me... I do, but I do know that I will be there and will be thin, so there is no reason to worry. I don't give a fuck about my hair or clothing. If you think I am ugly, go fuck yourself I don't care. This is who I am. Get used to it. I am fat now, but not in a month, not in 3.
I miss my writing. I miss my poetry. I feel like I haven't written in a long time. The only thing I write down is what food I had in a day. I am lacking in that even, though.
Ha.