Tag Archives: purging


Right before class ended (actual class, not finals), I was down to my wedding weight. Now I’m terrified to get on the scale, so I don’t have an exact number, but even my fat pants are too tight so I’ve got to be up 10 lbs.

Luckily the new year starts next week and I go back to class, so hopefully I’ll be able to shed this weight in a month – it’s no longer holiday season so there won’t be that pressure to eat sweets constantly, and I can go back to black coffee for dinner instead of peppermint mocha lattes and all that (delicious) sugary holiday shit.

I wonder if my husband notices? Not that he’d have any right to say anything; he’s gained like 50 lbs in the decade we’ve been together. But does he see my love handles and pouchy belly and jiggly arms and bat wings? I know he’s not into fat chicks, but where does he draw that line? And how thin can I get before he starts to get on my case about eating? God I wish I was a mind-reader.

But anyway, the New Years’ weight loss plan is nothing new. My concern is what happens when the spring semester ends and I’m back home all the time again. Will I just gain it again and be fat until the fall? Will the cycle ever end? Can’t I just find a happy medium and stay there? I honestly feel like I maintained my weight better when I was b/p-ing every day; at least then the net intake was approximately consistent. Now I’m rarely puking (although I did this afternoon, after eating half a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies) but I’m either ingesting 5,000+ calories a day or I’m restricting to 800. This is not sustainable! But when the alternative (daily b/p-ing) is even more harmful, what do I do? I’d rather be sick than fat.

ED is so fucked up.

Relapse. Again. 

So all week I’ve been stuck in the binge cycle, finally culminating with a purge last night. Then today I’ve been eating shit again, and tomorrow I’m going to the beach and will have to be in a bikini hating myself. I don’t understand why I can’t quit this shit. Why can’t I stop eating before I’m uncomfortably full? Why am I so drawn to all the worst shit? Why do I keep buying binge food and keeping it in the house when I fucking know better? And why is starving the next day the only solution that seems reasonable to my fucked-up brain? Logically I know that doesn’t help. I know it likely is a strong contributor to my binging behavior. Why is ED able to override my logical side EVERY TIME?? 

I hate Thanksgiving.

I have not stopped eating for a week, and haven’t worked out either. I can see myself getting softer and bigger and I just feel like a disgusting blob. It’s gotten to the point where I’m just eating all the junk I have because I want it out of the house so I can get back on track next week. Sometimes I purge, sometimes I don’t. I think I’ve just been so stressed out with work and life that I haven’t had the mental energy left to make an effort with my eating.

How much weight could I have possibly gained in a week? I’m terrified to get on the scale, but i know that sometimes I tend to assume the worst when it’s not really so bad. I mean, any gain is upsetting, but if I’m only up a pound or two to 114-115, then that’s okay. But if I’m 117 or more I’m going to be really upset.

Which is so crazy, because there was definitely a time when I would have done anything to be 117. Back when I was b/p-ing 10 times a day, I was in the 130s (even the 140s for a while) and thought 125 would be a great weight to maintain and be thin but healthy. But now I’m back to my anorexia-binging subtype and 120 seems way way way too high. I’m thinking about all the desperate shit I did to try to lose weight and wondering if it would be worth doing any of that again – thinking diet pills, even drugs.

Ugh I am so tired of this.

Accomplishment and failure.

So this morning I ran my first-ever 5k race – yay! And I set a personal record for speed so that was exciting. And then I put an offer in on a house so that was exciting too. But then I spent the rest of the day eating shit.

I tried to feel normal about it for a while. It was football Sunday, and we had some beers and apps. And then we had dinner later. But then I got home and I just felt so bloated and gross that I just said “fuck it” and ate a bag of Reeses Pieces.

So now I need to work out tomorrow even though it’s a holiday and I was planning on taking the day off. Maybe I’ll do something other than running, like a long walk or whatever. Blerg.

But the weird part is I don’t even feel like purging (although I would probably go ahead and take some laxatives if I had them). I just like can’t be bothered. I’m completely out of fucks to give today.