||[Mar. 4th, 2004|12:30 am]
I need to keep updating, dammit! Life has been so stressful lately - if it were up to me I'd throw in the towel on everything, drop out and become a recluse and spend my day writing depressing poems. Unfortunately, I can't do that, so I'm dealing as best I can. My weight has pretty much stablized at 107 or 108, which is disgusting in my opinion, but my waist is still around a 24 so I suppose I can live. The only thing I've eaten in the past 24 hours is cookie dough, which I purged, so I'm doing pretty well - I'm sliding back into the anorexic part of my cycle, and for the next week or two I'll probably be losing pretty rapidly - hopefully down to 100. I've started to think that maybe 95 would be okay because as it is I'm losing my boobs and my ass and I miss them - I don't know if a 22 inch waist is all that great if you have a freakin' AA cup ... I'm a 36B still but that's not the point. I'm just trying to find something that makes me happy. Right now I'm remembering what it's like to have people make fun of me for being so tiny, and to have people wrap their arms completely around me and comment that they might just break me. I'm rediscovering a miniature waist and my bottom ribs ... I mean I'm getting happy, pound by pound.|
My high weight is 121 pounds at 5'1". I know that's not a big deal - it's average, and yeah I still wore a size 5 or so. But I feel like growing an inch and losing fifteen pounds over the past year or two has done a lot for me. I feel prettier, more confident. I can fall asleep at night without trying to focus on something besides the rolls of fat around me. It wasn't that bad but I've realized that I honestly needed to lose the fifteen pounds. I think America tends to encourage people that it's okay to be a little overweight but it's not, I don't think it is anyway. I'd rather be a little too skinny than a little too fat ... I truly think it's healthier. At 5'1" and 121 I wasn't unhealthy but I was out of shape and I had gotten to 121 by overeating due to depression. So the weight was kinda my protection from everything. Now that I'm down to 107 or so, I've learned to cope with a lot of things better. I don't drink as much or as often, I can think about my dad and his alcoholism/eventual death without being upset, I dumped my asshole of a boyfriend and am letting myself fall for a girl I really care about without wondering if other people will be okay with it. I spend more time thinking about what I want to do than how fat I look in something. I fit into my freshman year prom dress. I can play strip poker without noticing rolls when I sit. I can get away with trying on girls clothes. I don't have to suck in all the time when I'm walking through the halls. I'm not embarassed to be me anymore - fifteen pounds has made all the difference. I feel infinitely prettier and better as a person as well. It's funny because I know without my eating disorder I couldn't have done it, and yet I still hate having an eating disorder. It's so bad for me but I need it, it helps me, I swear. And it's probably bad to assume that by the time I hit 95, the rest of my problems will be gone, but I'm gonna believe it, because it's the only thing that keeps me going.
Anyway, fat kid is off to bed before she eats (and before she finishes her English homework, but fuck English class...) so I'll try to update again soon. <3