I’m in love. 

Completely and totally.

But the body I’m in, I don’t want to be this way, to look this way, to feel this way.

I won’t actually _see_ them until…probably more than a year. I’ve got time, sure. I know I do. Everyone wants pictures, though. Fucking pictures. 

I wouldn’t send nudes, I mean, come on. But I can’t get myself to take full length shots, etc. It’s a mess. I’m a mess. I’m a complete fucking mess. 

And I _don’t_ want to do this the unhealthy way. I’m trying, REALLY trying to be good with this, to eat normally, to exercise. Exercise isn’t the problem any longer. I’ve got that taken care of. I go to the gym several times a week, I do housework, so on and so forth. 
But, the eating. I can’t always stand being full.
The thought of him not wanting me because I’m not good enough, because I’m not perfect, has got me skipping meals daily now. I’m a wreck. I feel like I’m falling apart. 

I skipped dinner yesterday. Skipped breakfast the day before. Haven’t eaten yet today and probably won’t until a few hours from now. I KNOW it’s not good for my metabolism. I’m going to try and stomach SOMETHING just so I can take my vitamins and also so I don’t feel so sluggish. 

I feel like I’m going out of my mind. 
I told him everything about my disordered eating, about my body image, etc. It just sort of came up during our conversations and I know he’s busy right now and that’s why he hasn’t responded but my anxiety is telling me it’s because he’s repulsed by me now. I know it’s not true. I mean, sure, there’s a chance he’d say that, there’s always a chance of that happening but I don’t really believe it.
I’m just over-thinking things. As usual. 

 Right now, I just want to crawl back into my bed and cry. I just want to cry and ignore everyone and everything. I wish I could see the future so I could know what he’d really think of me, so I’d know if any of this was worth it. So I could save myself from being hurt. 

Trying to paste on a smile, currently. It’s not easy because I would love to disappear for awhile. But I can’t and I’ve got the world to keep happy. 

Ok, I’ve seen a book at Target that was black, soft cover, had a lime green popsicle on the front cover and I know it was an ED related book. 

Does ANYONE know the title? ANYONE at all? I’ve spaced it and it’s driving me mad. :c 

Thank you for any and all advice!! 

I told myself I’d be lighter for graduation.
And so I starved myself or binged and purged until I had dropped about 90 lbs in 3-4 months. My hair was falling out, my mother was scared.
And I was still ‘fat’. But I was lighter, my goal had been met.
But then I decided I’d ‘recover’ and gained everything back and then some, surpassing my HW and making myself feel like death was the only way out.
So, here I am, trying to be ‘normal’ but purging creeps up every now and again and the urge to restrict is oh so very strong.
I have medical problems that will never go away because of what I did to myself.
But I still relish the fact that I achieved that goal, that I graduated at a new LW, while, technically, still being fat. But it made me feel invincible.

Eating foods without marked cals and nutrition facts make me panicky.
I can’t part from Diet Coke.
Water and I are the best of friends and I almost always avoid milk. I’ll eat dairy just…not milk…
Eating out is a chore these days and the weight I’ve gained makes me feel useless, pathetic, unlovable and scared.
I wish, oh you’ve no idea how much I wish, I could be as heavy as I was the day before I decided I’d destroy myself. And all because of what ‘society’ deemed acceptable.
Skinny, skinny, skinny, skinny. Fit, fit, fit, fit.
But instead of encouraging me to be healthy, no, society said stop eating.
And I did. For a time. And now I’m here.
Sort of like being back at the beginning but with more choices.

I don’t want to get to a weight severely below a healthy BMI.
I don’t want to see every little bone in my body poke out and I don’t want to collapse doing normal stuff, like checking the mail or taking a shower.

I want to be thin. Hell, I want to be perfect. But I don’t want to die.

And I hate the body I’m in. It’s why I can’t stand the happy-go-lucky weightloss people who, despite their overly large physique, still talk about how much more positive they’re being about their body and the way they look and their progress.

I’m sorry, I can’t identify with that. I admire their determination and in a way I envy the feelings they harbor about themselves. I wish I wasn’t so negative.

But let me say this: I don’t understand how someone can sit there and say, you have to lose weight but you also have to like the body you have right now, appreciate it, pick out your favorite part about it.

Um, come the fuck on, I’m fat, when people are fat, they’re not exactly beautiful and it doesn’t look right when the fat doesn’t stay put. Only a few lucky people seem meant to be fat because it’s normal on them, sexy, even but that’s not me. And while both the pretty fat people and the ugly fat people need to lose weight, there is no way in hell I could look in the mirror and go, ‘Ya know, you do look pretty good. Let’s go for a run to celebrate.’

No, how about, let’s go for a run cos you’re a fat lard oh wait, that’s right, you can’t because you have asthma and while you know it’s not because you’re overweight, you don’t care! Physical induced asthma just makes you look like a heifer and like you’re out of shape.

This is just me seeing myself for what I feel I am. I’m not picking on others with this logic of mine. If you are overweight and you still like yourself and your body, kudos to you, you have me in awe, I respect that. But I just can’t think the same of myself.

Which is why I most identify with the girls who cut calories, measure their food, obsess over being in places with people where there is food present. I identify the most with the bingers and purgers out there. I was there at one point. I hope I never go there again.
I identify with the girls who watch others stuff themselves and talk them down inside their heads.
I identify with the girls who are self-conscious, reserved and afraid of physical contact only because they don’t know what the other person is thinking.
I identify with these people. I am these people. I’m that kind of girl.

I’m sorry if others think I should find another group just because I won’t eat grapefruit and celery all day long or run an hour on a treadmill (which I can’t, tbh, I don’t have an inhaler yet and I really don’t want to die on a treadmill…)
I don’t do positive body image. I’m all for it, I try to have others see themselves in a better light, but when I myself look into a mirror, sometimes, I just want to die or, better yet, crawl into my bed, turn the lights off, draw the curtains and not get out until I’ve wasted away. (I won’t, I promise)