goddamn it

I think I went almost a week without b/p. Tonight (well last night, look at the goddamn clock) I made myself b/p on a whole large pizza. I don't know why. I only have like $50 to my name and yet I blew half of it on pizza and soda??? (Why do I say "I made myself" as though I am somehow innocent amidst my complete and obvious guilt?).

I don't know why I can't stop. I don't know why... I want to exercise so much, but I don't. I don't understand.

I am going to be 30 in September. I told a friend that I am going to kill myself if I am not thin by then. I don't know if I was serious. I guess I feel that if I put enough pressure on me, that I absolutely HAVE to lose weight or else I will die, then I will. I need something to force me to stop because I am helpless to stop on my own. I think probably I will die from this somehow. What is the point of being alive when I'm so depressed all the time, I'm wasting all my intelligence and talent and potential because I am weak and unable to control myself around food. I wish I was at least an alcoholic or a drug addict, I think it would be less embarrassing and easier to admit. At least drugs can make you "heroin chic." There's no trendy "bulimia bloat" now is there?

I don't have any faith in counseling. The counselor I saw at my school clinic was very nice but she was fatter than me... so I could not be fully honest about how much I despise myself for being fat and how worthless it makes me to society because I did not want to hurt her feelings.

Well this is a depressing post. How is all this negative thinking helping me? It's not. I want to go on crying but I won't. I'm going to start over yet AGAIN. It's 6 am and I will make myself start my day and go through one whole day without fucking up. I WILL TRY AGAIN!

(By the way, this blog will have swearing. I need to express my pain and words like "goddamn mother fucking shit son of a bitch" are sometimes the right words to do just that.)

GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING BULIMIA I HATE YOU!