FML

damn therapist doesn't know me at all she thinks my ultimate desire is a husband I am chocking on the force feeding of normalcy. I think Hot mess Hair is out of her fecking mind. I need to talk about fears and what happens when my fear makes me want to slit my own throat. She needs so serious education on eating disorder and the real world I do not know how much more god is the answer bullshit I am holy shit mad but I purged twice today breakfast an lunch and to all my med. I am going to have to educate her big time and frankly it is not my job. done rant and scene. she tells me all the time your beautiful blah blah oh how can I stand her

Here we go again

 So here we go, again In a small closet there is a little girl. She is hiding there behind he sister's dresses and the Sunday shoes. The beat up sneakers and smelly socks. All the way in the back, can you see her ? Blond hair that catches the little bit of light, dirty elbows from playing in the dirt. There just barely you can see a band aid on her knee. Maybe you wonder why she is hiding here in the dark. Maybe you think she is playing. I mean after all she is so little. Why else? there are others of you that know. You know what it is like to put your back to the wall and stare out into this world from the dark. You have probably guessed that she is afraid. You don't know why she is scared but I do. Perhaps you don't care either. Well I tried that too.  So If you don't want to know then go away. Because I am going to let her tell the world why. Why on this day is she hiding in the closet.
" They took my clothes she whispers. they tied the leash to my neck, they made me eat the dog food again." She doesn't even cry anymore. ( i am afraid of dog food)

Avoiding emo

I admit it. I am avoiding all emotions. I am using all my obsessive thoughts and ineffective behaviors to do it to. I am finding myself bent over toilets, bags. garbage cans and even the bushes. Shoving two then three finaly my whole fucking hand down my throat, to get that one apple out of my stomach. I hate myself. E-dog wants to know what the primary emotion is well it is disgust. Pure and simple I am so disgusted by myself. I don't know how to cope with that. So right now I am avoiding it the best way I know how. Obsessing about destroying the monster inside me.

Fast????

How did I get here so fast???? I have been asking myself that question too much lately. I found myself bent over plastic bags puking my guts up today. Why, plastic bags? your asking. Because I am so afraid that all this regurgitating will clog my pipes, duh?  I am becoming obsessed with a capital O lately. No there is no food in my refrigerator. Sorry Edog and J.P. I keep promising myself that I will go. I can't bring myself to do it. Besides, what would I buy. This all happened so fast. The last thing I remember is restricting yeast and anything that causes yeast to grow. Now nothing but crumbs stay down. I told myself that I would do what the hotze clinic said. I promised that I could eat clean and healthy. two months is all it took. It all came crashing back. The fear crippling me. ED's voice whispering in my ear, driving me too my knees. I beg and plead when I wake up that my bowels empty. That I can make it on just my supplements and water filled with fiber. Purging until snot and tears run down my face, when a glass of almond milk finds its way down my throat. Black spots dance around my eyes taunting me to stand up to fast. I take in a bowl of soup only to find it in the toilet ten minutes later. My emotions are getting numb and I have taken my mask out and dusted it off.  The words fine, good, okay and whatever spill from my lips without a thought. The feeling of self disgust fills me up. Self hatred and doubt fill every nook and cranny of my mind and soul. Not that I ever thought they went away but I was handling them. Is it possible that Ana never left. I am taken aback. this happened too damn fast.

Back in Action

So here I am, back. I have lost it. The delicate control that I had for fence sitting. ED has returned shining like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Begging me, goading me, with her silky voice that she will cure all of my ills. I listened. I jumped into the black hole with both feet. Dora went back, m&m is barely holding on. I am not as fine as I tell everyone. This time I confessed my sins. I told E-Dog about my lack of fighting urges to flush my sanity down the shit hole.(figuratively and literally) So there I said it I have relapsed.  It came back so easy. I tried to follow what the doctor in Texas said. Follow a yeast free diet for 30 days. I did, and now there is no food in my fridgadair.  And my diet consists dehydrated soups, and all that is yeast free. Except when I must have a value meal or some other unsafe food then I puke it back up. I thought I could fight this but it has proved a moot point.
Oh spiral paths why do you tempt me so. The problem with this little sortie is that everything else is good. More     hours at work FINALLY. Therapy progress is slow but I move steadily along.(well I have been) but going to the gym at three a.m. I mean come on!!  My memories haunt me. The voices that told me I was black and disgusting, no good, that I deserved all they could dish out and more. Those voices fill my head.  I can hear her screaming loud now. but then I hear ED whisper ever so softly. "I'm here, I'm back, back in action."

Here it is Sunday, this week did not go as I had planned it. I was placed on Safety by Edog and had to be watched by Dora, M&M, and Mann. They were scared as they had every right to be. The thing is I never said that I was a safety risk. I said I was tired. That is the truth, I am exhausted. I feel as though I am bounding through this world without so much as an impact for good.  I seem to be complaining all the time. I just want to stop. Stop all the crying and the whining and the drama. I want to stop all the " fake it til you make it bull shit." most of all I want to stop this ugly ass body. I don't want to eat anymore. I don't want to drink water. I don't want to go to the gym I don't want to shower and wash my hair. I want to stop. If that means stop living than fine why can't that be my choice?  Why can't I choose to just stop? Why can't that be an effective choice?  I mean I get it that it comes from a place of pain and emotion. Can't those things be wise mind places too. I am not saying that I am going to acquire a gun in the next week. Although I can understand not killing yourself because it hurts other people. I get it they would miss me and be angry. They would feel guilty and hate me forever.  What I don't understand is that they hate me the same if they have to watch me all the time.  Why can't I save them the frustration of going through it over and over again. I am not saying that me killing myself would help them. I know that is something, I tell myself to make me feel better. I only feel that this is a logical choice for me and that by talking about it gets too many people involved. Again my main problem is that I am tired.  Beyond that seems like wishful thinking

I think  my friends hate me.  Rather they are sick of me. Dora won't look at me or speak to me. I feel like making excuses saying that this isn't my fault, it is though. I did it I and I alone have burned this bridge. I have once again somehow got myself put on safety without really saying anything. I suppose actions always speak louder than words. I was just trying to protect my friends from my drama. It did not work.  God how I hate myself.  It is just like the policeman said that was standing in my living room I should respect my support system and their lives.  They do care I know they do. I love them too I just sometimes think it would be better if I gave them some peace and quiet. I am always running out of time.