dazed and confused and a pretty nice hangover weight

yyyyyeugh

I feel disgusting. 2pm in the afternoon and no sleep last night and none today despite loads of trying. So exhausted and hungover and foul but my body clock is reset and it won't let me just sleep. But I'm not really feeling too good about standing up either because I've been verrrrry fainty lately. I'm comatose awake. Catatonic practically.

I can't believe I was driving all over the city half drunk about 6 hours ago. What the hell? It's a fuzzy memory.

Horrible horrible night. Abandoned and stranded and 4 suburbs away from my car. But a nice boy walked me there (massive long calorie burning high heeled walk musta taken 2 hours) and was very gentlemanly. He kinda saved me. I felt bad. I think he liked me. I very much appreciated not being raped. Restores faith in humanity.

He sat with me in my car too until daylight when I felt safe enough to drive. I repaid him with a lift home. He tried to get me to stay but I said no. Thank goodness.

This post SUCKS
My head is RETARDED
Wish I could sleep. There's a Marilyn Monroe movie on TV in an hour. But not one of my faves. Prince and Showgirl. Blah.

Oh yeah! That's what I was going to say! Nothing beats weighing in "morning after"... I know I'm completely dehydrated when I step on the scales but seeing a low number is motivating. When I'm hungover I like to weight myself then think, right, now stay under that!

This morning it was 54.7 kg (120.3 lbs)
ALL TIME LOW

Now, forgive me, but I'm going to go have icecream for breakfast.
Fuck it, I feel like shit and its 2pm and I WANT IT
AND I DON'T CARE

I'm so dizzy, my head is spinning

If I don't feel dizzy when I stand up
...I feel like a failure

SPEWED (plus a crazy tip for the strong stomached)

Yeah well, what can I say.

The day went great and totally to plan but there was nothing I could do at the birthday dinner but eat. And when I was done I sat still and clasped my belly and counted the minutes til I could lock myself away and spew my ring up. Mmm, gross.

Anyway, recently have been investing a lot of thought into how to purge in the least harmful way possible. I'm trying to stop but there are times when it is inevitable. And a common tip is that rinsing your mouth with bicarb after vomiting can neutralise the acid on your teeth.

Which got me to thinking...
Why just minimise the harm AFTER the acid has hit your teeth?
Why not neutralise it before it even gets there?

Which led to me drinking down a whole lotta bicarb in water pre-purge and intra-purge and let me tell you: You know that experiment you do in 7th grade where you mix bicarb and vinegar together to make the lava bubble up out of a paper mache volcano? Well yeah, same thing pretty much happens in your stomach.

Still had to instigate vomiting, but after that it was basically projectile. It made it MUCH easier. I was completely impressed. I drank more and swished my mouth between bouts, and emptied my stomach in record speed.

Now I have no idea about the safety record of imbibing vast quantities of bicarb, so I'm not sure I should be recommending this, but I'm certainly doing it again next time.

Oh, and it tastes like SHIT

up
and
down

I'm so freaking anxious today
and I can't for the life of me figure out why
or resolve it

55.8

I'm surprised I haven't shot back up after going so far off the rails for so long

Had a fantastic day yesterday, only 350cal
Today is going well too, only 100 so far but there's a big family birthday dinner tonight which could be risky. If I restrict too much leading up to it I'll binge for sure, but I still need to keep my cals low to allow for it. Or purge... but we all know that's NOT a good idea.

Can't bring myself to exercise. At. All.
Feel guilty about the money being wasted on my gym membership.
But I just really really super duper don't want to do it.

I know it seems a little unorthodox, but I'm thinking of revising my goal weight UP. To maybe 53kg (116.5 lbs). I think in the future I'll want to get it down lower. In the meantime it would be good if I could maintain there for a few months, even if just so people get used to me at my new size and stop prying into my eating. But I definitely want to get far enough below 55 to STAY below it. So really that means I need to power through this last 3kgs then regroup. Totally do-able.

I'm thinking 2-4-6-8 might work well for me...

this is what pasco rose sees in her mirror each morning:

Still pretty fat

Today I did:

OK!

For the first time in ages. Not great. But bloody fucking OK!

Went to the psychologist I've been seeing for depression (so passe) and blurted out an oral version of my previous post. Sex, spew and rock and roll. I've never talked about eating stuff with her before, but I figured she'd done a nice job of "gaining my trust" and "developing a rapport" (they teach us how to do this in medicine too, it's so obvious but it really works) so I thought she deserved my disclosure. Plus she's lovely and adorable and excellent to talk to. It felt great to talk about it. Just bouncing ideas off her. With no judgment and no pressure to change. Really, anyone who needs someone to talk to face to face but wants to maintain their secrecy and anonymity, get yourself a clin psych. Particularly if you can see them for free through uni like me.



You girls are really my all

My psych asked of my ex ex "do you think he understood the magnitude of the secret you told him, how much it meant for you to tell him that?" and I said "no, not at all"

She knew, as you know, that this stuff is EVERYTHING



It amazes me the effort that goes into living life this way.
Desperately, hopelessly clawing and scratching the fat away from our bodies with bleeding fucking nails.
Every little thing
Messy, vomiting, starving, just every tiny thing we can do here and now to weigh just a little less. Such incredible desperation and distress.
People just don't get that



Today I ate:
2 baby apples 100
2 baby pears 100
1 plum 50
1/4 cup raspberries 50
1 carrot 0
1 handful snow peas 0
1 handful cherry tomatoes 0
Vietnamese chicken salad and 1/4 cup rice and some other prawny bits and stuff500ish

Total: 800

A month ago I'd have been horrified by that. But for now it's start. And it was all really good for my poor ragged body. Except the rice, but fuck it, it wasn't much!

Tomorrow will be even better. The claws are back out ladies. Time to scramble my way back up... back down

red eyes, blue gaze, you look like hell today...

...step out on parade, you do it so well


God
what a weekend,
what a mess,
what on Earth will I do now...

Slept with the ex boyfriend. Not the ex, but the ex ex. A boy (a man really, I suppose) who has been tinkering on the periphery of my life for several years. And who I periodically cheated on my ex with. Someone I love and hate with equal fervor such that the overall outcome is close to indifference. And someone who, in many years, after many more torrid romances with many different men, I feel I will inevitably give up and marry. And live out the rest of my indifferent life.

The great irony is that I slept with him on Saturday night. On Saturday day I had dismantled my ex boyfriend's big queen sized bed (which had been residing at my house) and bought myself a beautiful, white, brass and iron single bed. Pristine, perfect, single. A symbolic (and expensive) gesture intended to signify the transition into the next phase of my life.

And then
I fucked up
I fucked him in it
I fucked him in it the first night
when I hadn't even had ONE NIGHT in it alone

So that was disappointing, but it was only the beginning of a much greater mistake. All day on Saturday I had been feeling horribly lonely. Worthless and disgusting, and like there was nobody in my life who I could share my dirty lonely secrets with. I cried and cried for the first time in weeks.

So after he slept over on Saturday night I decided he might be the person for me to tell. Someone I'm not too emotionally entangled with for it to matter if he no longer saw me the same way. Someone sufficiently detached from the rest of my life that he wouldn't pop up as a reminder and someone who could keep a secret. And someone who might... care. Maybe.

But I couldn't do it sober, so in a great romantic gesture I sneaked to the shops and spent all my money on champagne, strawberries and pastries and thought I'd have a beautiful day, get a little tipsy, and declare my disorder. He refused my offerings, so I downed the lot myself. It wasn't enough to loosen my tongue. So I topped it off with sleeping pills, gin and cointreau and kept at it until I was a revolting mess. Then in a tearful blur I blurted out that I have bulimia.

He stayed until Monday morning.
But he never looked at me the same way again.
And I don't think he cares.
He just doesn't think I'm perfect anymore.
And he used to be the only person who did.


I could murder myself.
I could kill to get my secret back.

Dearest Lulu:

Sticking to the promise
Did throw up after a bottle of champagne, but it wasn't deliberate, so I don't think it counts. Thankyou, and thanks Ophelia and Savory and everyone for the support

xx

losing it

I'm a fucking mess



Eating normally has been a horrible failure. The eating part is fine, except any time I get near a toilet or shower I purge. I can't not do it. I tell myself I won't, but before I can blink my finger is down my throat and my "normal healthy diet" is in an ugly pile around the plug hole.

Fuck

If I restrict, I'm happy with what I'm feeding my body and I don't purge. But I'm losing the power to do it. And the more I try the more I binge.

I don't know what to do
I'm in hell