I don’t remember much about all my previous birthdays…
Only how uncomfortable they were when everyone sang ‘happy birthday’ to me; They were ALL looking at me and I hated it. I don’t want lots of people looking at me; even if they are my family.
The number one thing I remember about my birthdays is the wishes I made.
It was always the same wish, year after year, after year…
I wish I could be thin and beautiful.
And I wished hard.
Of course, it never happened…
At those times in my life I was still a little bit confused about God’s place in this world and in our lives, and I thought that maybe if I was really good, and kept asking Him for it.. He would give it to me.
Looking back, part of me regrets wishing that, and part of me doesn’t.
You see, I still wish for that every year, in the back of my mind…
For a while my only wish was for the next year of my life to be not as bad as the previous one.
Of course, that wish never came true either…
Every year that goes by… everything just keeps getting worse.
My birthday is September 25.
I’ll be 21 in about 17 days.
A ‘normal’ 21-year-old girl would be out with her friends, probably drinking and having a good time, savoring life.
I’ll still be fantasizing about death, suicide, self-injury, starvation…. you name it.
So really there’s no point at all for me to make a birthday wish.
They never come true and probably never will.
But I’m going to wish to someday be thin and beautiful anyway.
Because I have to.
Well, aside from scouring the internet for pictures of 100-lb girls…
I’ve been doing pretty well today.
But I did yesterday, for the first time in a long time.
Here’s what I wrote yesterday.
Oh my God, I feel so sick.
So, so, sick…
I just got back from exercising with my peer specialist.. and I went and got lunch…
I had a Clif bar.
And then some v8 fusion juice…
And then some soymilk…
And then some macaroni salad I found in the fridge…
And then a few cheese & garlic croutons…
And then an old microwave-able egg roll (most definitely pre-fried)…
And then 2 fudgsicles mixed with a ton of JIF peanut butter…
And I felt like shit.
I haven’t binged for MONTHS, but yet, here I am, stuffing my disgusting face…
I JUST exercised, for fuck’s sake!
What the fuck is WRONG with me?
I wasn’t even thinking!
I was totally numb.
But I just kept going and going… like I had NO control.
I remember my therapist mentioning to my parents during our family session that I also had eating disorder tendencies… but I think they chose to ignore it.
They’re not here. They’re visiting my lovely older sister in Maine.
She’s so thin. So pretty.
She treats me like shit for no reason, but she’s so much prettier than I am…
Which I would be sort of okay with, if I weren’t treated differently because of it.
My largest scar on top of my left forearm is about 3 inches in length, and rather wide, and still slightly pink.
I slashed into my skin with a knife when I was 13.
Because I asked my dad if I could have a second cookie…
And I got upset because he said no.
Well, not because he said no… but because I was afraid of what he was thinking.
I forget what words ensued between us then…
I think I stormed downstairs to my room..
But we were yelling at each other while he was upstairs with me at the bottom of the stairs… and all I can remember is him yelling:
“Because you’re too BIG!!!”
I immediately went to the knife in my room and slashed open my arm.
That was when I was 225 lbs.
I weigh 275 now.
I’m even more disgusting to him than before.
He doesn’t want a disgusting, ugly daughter.
He doesn’t want me.
I’m so ugly.
Why won’t someone fucking kill me.
If I could just lose weight…
Maybe they would love me.
I remembered that incident…
And for the first time, I felt a long-since-dormant urge.
And urge to GET THAT SHIT OUT OF ME.
So I desperately looked up methods to induce vomiting on the internet..
I used to try putting my fingers down my throat, but I found that to be too… long. Too painful.
So I tried something that some people speculated about…
I mixed a small glass of water with a bunch of mustard powder and a bit of salt.
Went into the bathroom.
I took one sip.
And I felt the reflex immediately.
In one heave, the sip of the water-mustard mixture came up.
Felt a lot worse than I expected.
The next second, I heaved again, with NO control, heaving up a bit of the fudge-sicle mixture. At this point, I started to get scared, because I knew it wasn’t going to stop.
The final heave: a little bit more of the chocolate… stew.
It was so painful.
Maybe painful isn’t the right word.
My body was so violently doing this, and there was so much pressure in my face and in every part of my body that I felt like my head was going to explode.
I’ve heard it gets easier to purge.
I hope it’s true… because I might do this again now that I know it works.
Because if I were just to use my fingers… I wouldn’t get anything up because I’m a coward.
Well, I barely got any of it out, much to my discontent…
So I decided to look up home remedies for laxatives.
I decided on one: Epsom salts with water and lemon juice.
I had to add sugar… it was so disgusting.
But not as disgusting as the mustard mixture.
This one didn’t quite make me gag; I just shuddered disgustingly after every painful sip.
And that was only 2 teaspoons.
For adults, it recommends 2-4 teaspoons for one dosage.
And since my body is so big… I’m willing to bet it would take 6 teaspoons to work for me.
I feel so sick.
Sick to my stomach.
And sick inside.
So disgusted with myself.
And so disappointed in myself.
I hate myself so much.
I’m not going to eat for the rest of the day.
Later that day…
I got too impatient with the Epsom salts…
so, much to my most intense disgust… I used a glycerin suppository.
Yeah, I know. Makes me queasy just thinking about it.
Never in a million years would I ever have expected to be willingly shoving something up my ass.
But it actually worked.
Given it took about 20 minutes, but that’s not that bad.
I felt better afterwards. Not great, but better.
I looked up a calorie-burning calculator to see how much exercise I will do to help prevent weight gain from this…
I need to go over what I ate all day.
Breakfast: ½ cup granola cereal (250 cals), ½ cup soymilk (40 cals), 8oz V8 Fusion juice (100 cals)
Lunch: Clif bar (260 cals), 8oz v8 juice (100 cals), 8oz soymilk (80 cals), macaroni salad (about 150 cals), croutons (30 cals), egg roll (200 cals? Maybe more), 2 fudge-sicles (200 cals), about 4 Tbsp. PB (380 cals).
Dinner: 8oz soymilk w/ ovaltine (about 100 cals).
Yes, I know I said I wouldn’t eat dinner.
I only consumed anything because I exercised so much… need the protein to build my muscles back up after so much exercise.
Okay, so this comes to… 2040. So basically anywhere from 2000-2200 calories.
Now, let’s see what I burned…
Exercise with peer specialist: 40 mins: 360 cals.
Exercise after lunch & laxatives: about 55 minutes: about 475 cals.
Total cals burned: 835.
Subtract from the worst-case scenario…
Okay. I didn’t do TOO horribly… though I did do pretty bad.
My main concern is that I binged on UNHEALTHY food… which I RARELY do anymore.
God, I hope I haven’t gained weight tomorrow…
My mom’s been calling to check up on me every once in a while throughout today.
After my dilemma… when she called… of course I can’t tell anyone about these things… so I pretended I was doing fine. She must have fallen for it because she remarked with pleasure: “You seem like you’re feeling better.”
I have gotten to be a very good liar in my old age. Though I rarely lie. Only when I have to to protect myself or someone else.
That was on Thursday. I rested Friday and attended psych rehab. Today is Saturday.
I exercised at a moderate (challenging) pace for 50 minutes.
So i burned like 450-ish calories.
This morning I waited to weigh myself until I took a dump.
The FIRST time I’ve been under 270 in over a year.
And I plan to keep this up.
I’m much less likely to binge now, I think…
because I know I will have the urge to purge. And I will do it.
And that fucking hurts.
So, things are looking alright.
Aside from last Wednesday…
I was a bad girl.
I violated my own moral standards.
But oddly I don’t give a shit this time.
I intentionally hacked into my sister’s Facebook account to see what she and my older sister were saying about me.
Because I knew they were doing it.
They said they weren’t They told my parents they weren’t.
They’re just a couple of rotten, dirty, lying tramps.
Still degrading me.
Amazingly I still love them.
I wish I didn’t.
I’ll add details in a future post.. I don’t really want to go over it right now.
It made me suicidal.
Not that they would care.
I bet they’d love to see me dead.
My mom and dad keep stressing to me, trying to make me believe that they love me.
They can say they love me.
But they also said they weren’t gossiping behind my back again.
Their words mean nothing to me now.
How can anyone in their right mind expect me to believe something that comes out of their filthy mouths???
I’ll believe it when they ACT like it.
Peace out, till next time.