How did it come to this?

*Just a warning, this entry will probably all over the place because my head is just exploding with thoughts!

CW: 45.2 kg / 99.6 lbs
BMI: 16.0

Wow, where do I even begin? Positives first:  I was able to eat breakfast today and made it to both my classes (barely) and went to see my nutritionist.

I was so tired inbetween classes.  I could barely make it to the library, where I just crashed in chair for a little bit.  I tried reading a chapter for class and the words weren’t making sense.  That was upsetting.  Disturbing actually.  I know the signs for when an ED is getting really bad, but I won’t take that huge step to stop them.  For the past few weeks I’ve been saying that when everything else goes badly, at least I’m focused on my schoolwork and my classes keep me moving ahead with things.

I saw my nutritionist.  She knows I can’t do this recovery thing on my own.  I admitted that I knew it too, but I can’t put myself in the hospital.  She asked what I’m going to do when I go home and have to see my family.  Of course I haven’t told them that it’s gotten out of control again.  My weight is only a little lower than when I left them a month ago.  It has stayed pretty stable.

Will they notice?  Do I want them to notice?  The healthy part of me wants them to notice.  I want my dad to notice that I don’t weigh 110 and stop me, because I can’t stop myself.  The other part of me, wants to go on like this.  I know I can’t.  How do people live for years with an ED?  I’ve only had it for over a year and I already feel as though my body is breaking down.  How much abuse can I put my body through?

It’s weird.  I want to be thin.  I see my weight and know it’s low, but it’s not low enough.  I’ve lost all my boobs.  No wonder people think I’m roughly the same age as my sister (who’s 13).  I have the chest of 13 year old.  It’s not enough because I still see the fat around my hips and in my arms and thighs. 

I’ve worked so hard to become thin.  I’ll be covered up tomorrow when I see my dad, so hopefully he won’t be able to see.  There must be something wrong there.  I work so hard to become thin, only to hide the weightloss.  Something is wrong there, right?  Do I want the intervention?  My last medical intervention traumatized me and I don’t, I can’t, relive that experience.

How did it come down to this?  How did I fuck myself up so much?  I don’t blame anyone, but myself.  I’ve strived to be perfect.  I got into the perfect communications school.  (Of course I’m not switching out because I realized that I didn’t have the assertive ambition needed and in the end it also wasn’t my passion)

I’ve worked to be the best big sister.  I’ve always been told that I’m such a good role model.  What kind of example am I setting now?  I don’t even know my sister anymore.  What does she think of me now?

I’ve worked to be the perfect daughter.  I just didn’t have the perfect weight.  Now I’ve just hurt my family.  The family I’ve done nothing but try and keep the peace between for 5 years and I’ve made it worse.  I’ve caused added stress on my poor dad who was trying to move on with his life after the divorce as best he could (although he could’ve been around a little more, but he is now there for my sister).  My mother, the bipolar, alcoholic suicidal person that she is.  I think she actually likes that someone in the family is now the fuck up and not her.  That was not my intention.  I never wanted to be the center of attention.  That is my sister’s job.  She prefers it.  I prefer it.

I got back from classes and the appt and I had a quick b/p, bringing back the chestpains.  Go me.  My glands are swollen and my throat is sore.  It took me 3 hours to convince myself to eat again, eat something healthy that I would keep down.  Frozen spinach (60 cals), an apple (80 cals), low cal toast (70) and some grapes…uh oh.  Now I set myself into the motion of a binge by eating too much in one sitting…let the binge begin after the roomies went out for a little bit.  I cooked up more frozen veggies and toasted some more bread…then I PURGED it all.  Needless to say, not good for my chest.

I can’t stop myself.  I would b/p all the time if I knew when my roomies whereabouts at all times.  (Yesterday I made up a bullshit reason to call them for something just to find out when they’d be home)  I’m growing afraid of my "safe" foods.  Anything can be dangerous if I’m not in the right mindset.  Start eating a little too much and it turns into a binge, or a panic attack…either isn’t good.

I’ve worked to be perfect…4.0 in highschool.  Model daughter and sister.  Good friend to my friends at home (my "friends" at school wouldn’t notice if I dropped dead tomorrow).   Got into the great school.  Now it all seems to be falling apart.  I’m a girl who wants the perfect family.  I didn’t get it, but they’re not the worst either.  They are all loving in their special ways and I am grateful for that and I wouldn’t want to put them through the pain of dying.  I want life to go smoothly.  highschool – 4 yrs.  College – supposed to be done in 4.  Get an entry job, work my way up in my field.  Eventually find a man who’d love me.  (That’s a whole other issue)

Now I’m changing my plan.  I’m changing majors late in the game.  I may not finish out this semester.  I may end up in a hospital instead.  I may not go to London.  So much is up in the air right now and I need a plan.  I need things in life to be packaged neatly and orderly.

How did it come to this?  I can’t get beyond this on my own, but I can’t make myself take the steps to solve it.  What should I do?

~Rachel