Depressed

I hate myself. I hate my body. It's gross. I'd rather die right now.

Two weeks free of purging today. Two weeks of eating - and eating a lot. Two weeks of giving it an honest effort. But, I can't do it. I can't keep doing this. I can't handle being in my body. I want to escape it and I can't. I have to feel every ounce of fat sticking to my body - weighing me down.

Two weeks in recovery, and a year's worth of starving and suffering is erased. Why can't I be one of those girls who can't put on weight? Instead, I just gain and gain and gain. I get fat and gross. I'm starting to feel like a fool for ever thinking I might have a set point that I could handle. If I eat I'm destined to a life of being fat and disgusting.

Every time I eat I feel like an out of control failure. It feels so so wrong to be eating as much food as I am.

I had so much hope put into the recovery method on your eatopia, but I'm really starting to doubt it. It can't be normal to eat this much food? How can my body need this much food? It can't even handle it. And, the more I eat, the more it wants... all I think about is food. My day revolves around eating, cooking, and pinning recipes.

Everyone says the more I eat and am able to weight restore, the thoughts will diminish. The thoughts haven't diminished. They are worse. All I think about is restricting and losing weight all day every day. Every single bite of food I eat, I hate myself a little bit more. Every day I am more miserable than the day before. Every day I want to run away or give up. I want to escape from the hell in my head. The anxiety, depression, and the anorexia are killing my spirit. Last time I recovered and gained weight, I had a lot of negative emotions, but I had periods of happiness and I was able to start doing things. This time I have no desire to do anything. I feel empty inside. I haven't seen any positives to eating thus far.

I miss being physically sick... mentally I'm still very sick, but I miss being underweight. I miss my bones. I miss being on the constant verge of hospitalization. It's sick and twisted, but a big part of me enjoyed it. I seem doomed to a life of misery, and it's even worse when the outside doesn't match the inside.

I don't want everyone to think I'm okay. Because I'm not. I'm far from okay.

I cut myself worse than I ever have tonight. If I can't be thin, I'll show my pain in a different way I guess.