(no subject)
day two of my exlax abuse, and this has got to be the last day- no more tomorrow.
i feel, right now, as if i'm going to have a heart attack.
i'm trying to read posts and i can't concentrate, and my chest is aching.
i purged possibly five times today, i lost count after the third.
purging frosting is disgusting.
so is purging macaroni and cheese.
my eyes burn,
my nose piercing is constantly infected
because[thisisdisgusting,justwarningyou]
food actually passes into my nose when i purge.
it's like i'm rubbing my nose piercing in a pile of mac and cheese.
and frosting.
my boyfriend today commented on how i didn't eat any pasta at his apt last night.
i said, 'i had a brownie in the car on the way there, i wasn't that hungry.'
and he says to me...
you never eat. you need to eat like- way more than you do.
and i told him, 'no, baby, i need to eat less.'
and he tells me- no, you're almost too small now as it is, any smaller and you'll be bones, you'll be a stick.
you don't want to be a stick.
'yes, i want to be a stick.'
and he says,
sweetie you need to eat more. even if you ate triple what you eat in a day you'd never even make it to 130, you're naturally small.
you need to take better care of yourself, you're on the verge of being too small.
uhm.. i felt like saying,
you weren't there when i was 140!
you aren't there when i sit at home at night and do my planned b/p's.
no one is ever here,
not when i'm completely myself.
my disgusting, horrid self.
and he says, 'you'll never get to 130, unless you're pregnant.'
and i say, no, no babies for me.
and he says- 'you're so thin sweetie if you got pregnant now you'd have health problems.'
o, but i'm not a stick yet, remember?
but i'm not too small yet.
i want to be so ill that everyone stops fucking telling me to eat, and just lets me wallow in my weightlessness.
that they'll think... 'well, she's already wasted, might as well just let her finish the job.'
and i told vlad, i said- 'no, baby, i'm losing five more. just five more.'
'five more and you'll blow away. you really think five will be enough for you?'
'maybe ten.'
and maybe, and maybe, and maybe.
i feel, right now, as if i'm going to have a heart attack.
i'm trying to read posts and i can't concentrate, and my chest is aching.
i purged possibly five times today, i lost count after the third.
purging frosting is disgusting.
so is purging macaroni and cheese.
my eyes burn,
my nose piercing is constantly infected
because[thisisdisgusting,justwarningyou]
food actually passes into my nose when i purge.
it's like i'm rubbing my nose piercing in a pile of mac and cheese.
and frosting.
my boyfriend today commented on how i didn't eat any pasta at his apt last night.
i said, 'i had a brownie in the car on the way there, i wasn't that hungry.'
and he says to me...
you never eat. you need to eat like- way more than you do.
and i told him, 'no, baby, i need to eat less.'
and he tells me- no, you're almost too small now as it is, any smaller and you'll be bones, you'll be a stick.
you don't want to be a stick.
'yes, i want to be a stick.'
and he says,
sweetie you need to eat more. even if you ate triple what you eat in a day you'd never even make it to 130, you're naturally small.
you need to take better care of yourself, you're on the verge of being too small.
uhm.. i felt like saying,
you weren't there when i was 140!
you aren't there when i sit at home at night and do my planned b/p's.
no one is ever here,
not when i'm completely myself.
my disgusting, horrid self.
and he says, 'you'll never get to 130, unless you're pregnant.'
and i say, no, no babies for me.
and he says- 'you're so thin sweetie if you got pregnant now you'd have health problems.'
o, but i'm not a stick yet, remember?
but i'm not too small yet.
i want to be so ill that everyone stops fucking telling me to eat, and just lets me wallow in my weightlessness.
that they'll think... 'well, she's already wasted, might as well just let her finish the job.'
and i told vlad, i said- 'no, baby, i'm losing five more. just five more.'
'five more and you'll blow away. you really think five will be enough for you?'
'maybe ten.'
and maybe, and maybe, and maybe.