Thanksgiving weekend

I don’t even remember starting this long weekend. Like, how is it over already? I even had an extra day off, today. I had a four-day long weekend and it’s over, just like that. Poof!

My weight gain becomes more obvious to me everyday and I am so disgustingly, ashamed. But I can’t stop. After the Thanksgiving festivities, all of that booze and food, you’d think I’d be done but I’m not. I can’t stop.

I told myself that today will be my last day but tomorrow is going to be so jammed pack with weird, random events that I know tomorrow, for convenience sake, I’ll binge as well.

I woke up at 8:15am this morning and sat on the couch for a few hours. I like to wait until I’m as starving as possible before a binge. It helps me eat more and makes the food taste better. As I type this out, it sounds so… sick. 

I went to the grocery store and got some veggies for soup. My boyfriend boiled down the bones into a broth from our turkey the other day and needed me to pick up some things from the store. I picked up some binge food too because today is perfect. He’s working all day and I have nothing better to do. 

I ate 3 pizza pockets, a box of 1/2 dozen donuts, and a large pumpkin spiced latte all before noon. My head is just pounding from the sugar and my stomach feels so bloated and sick. I’m not done though. I still feel hungry. Or I wouldn’t even say that hunger is the word for it. I still feel empty.

I have so much to do today before the school week starts up again. I have so much reading and I could definitely start on midterm flashcards. Next midterm isn’t until NEXT week but I could alleviate the stress but starting to study now, especially since I have time but how am I supposed to sit down and concentrate when this voice in my head constantly keeps yelling at me to “keep eating!” 

It’s this voice that I try to hard to get my boyfriend and others to understand. I want to do a social experiment with them and get them to read a book or something and then answer questions about the story at the end but while they’re reading, I’m constantly yelling in their face, distracting them as much as possible. I’d like to see how many questions they can get right. Probably not much. That’s what it’s like to live with an ED. Even in a quiet, calming, peaceful environment, I can’t concentrate because the noise is inside my head.

I wonder if I’ll ever be skinny again. 

Why can’t someone help me? I’m trying so hard but I can’t do this on my own.

I had ONE appointment with a psychiatrist. He was very nice and highly intelligent. I knew he understood me because the things I told him hardly seemed to surprise him. He just nodded his head as if he’s heard it all before. It was a telecom appointment, kind of like Skype. The whole time I talked to him, I could see myself on the screen, sitting there in my sweatpants and bloated face. I couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t taking me seriously enough because I don’t look like I’m hungry or sick. Apart from my choice of clothing, my hair looks long and healthy, I have good skin, and I’m pleasantly plump.

I asked if I’d need to be sent to in-patient treatment. He asked me if I thought I needed it. I said “no” because I feel like if I said “yes”, he’d think I just wanted a break from life, an easy way out full of no responsibilities and people just telling me what to do.

And maybe it’s true. In-patient treatment seems like a vacation, to be honest. But I said “no” because I think that’s what is expected of me and he agreed that he didn’t think I needed it. You know what I heard him say?”

“You’re not sick enough to need it”.

How sick is sick enough, though? 

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