I thought I was doing so well...

Hi everyone,


Well... I've eaten more... I'm supposed to be happy about that I suppose. 


So my totals for the day:
-breakfast was the 120cal. muffin and some coffee
-lunch was 2 slices of turkey on a whole wheat arnolds (which I pulled about an 1/8 off and thew away) with pineapple habenero
-i also had a special k protein snack bar (110cal.) as the second part of my lunch. and like... 2 watermelon squares from a fruit bowl
-i had an afternoon snack of yogurt with a low fat granola
-for dinner I had a small piece of grilled chicken (which I ate most of) with salsa and a few broccoli florets


It seems like so much to me...

Oh... and I've now had a total of 7 fat burners for the day. And I've gotten back into the 1 ex-lax a night routine... which might be 2 tonight... I'll try not to. I know it's bad. 

I saw myself today... I saw what I'm doing to myself. I went to leave a video on my friends facebook wall and I just froze looking at myself. Maybe I have lost some weight.That's not a bad thing... but I know it's been done the wrong way. I want to beat this eating disorder... not fall back into it.


But it's just so much easier. 


I don't mind being the only one who's not eating, I will still go out to socialize and I just won't order anything... it doesn't bother me too much... okay... so it can be awkward I guess... but... oh fuck, I have no idea where I'm going with this. 


Maybe I'm not ready for recovery... maybe I can just hold on to this for a little longer...


I wrote a poem today... it's nothing special. Maybe not even a poem... just some random thoughts formatted to look like a poem. I just blurted it out right after I saw myself. It probably doesn't even make any sense.

It's a funny thing really,

how I couldn't be happier to see the pounds drop.

Yet there's something inside me,

something way, far, deep down.

And I can feel it breaking,

slowly dying away.

One by one,

the pounds are dropping.

Taking with them,

the better part of me.

I feel so alive,

yet I feel so very empty.

My every thought,

my every sensation,

contradicting the last.

Wanting to get better,

yet letting myself slip.

Knowing I should eat,

but my body doesn't move.

Taking more pills,

with each passing day.

Trying to fill the hole that's within.

A hunger that can't be fed,

as I watch myself wasting away.

I'm never enough.
I'll never be enough.
I never was enough.