I AM SO DONE WITH THIS BLOG.
I go back and forth with pro recovery then almost relapse. SICK of it. Fuck this shit.
I hope to God this time that my recovery is real. I'm tired of falling back into restricting, purging, and cutting.
Goodbye blog. I won't delete you but I quit writing in you.
Peace

I've been restricting a lot since that last entry. I know I should quit. I want to quit, but I can already tell I'm shrinking. That makes it hard for me to really want to quit and eat normally again.
But tomorrow I'm going to *try* to eat normally and actually enjoy what I eat. I'm tired of hating myself for every bite that goes into my mouth.
Why should I stick with this eating disorder? It accomplishes nothing. It pushes away the people I love, affects my performance in college, and makes me feel like shit, physically and mentally. I know I want to be thin but it should NOT be my top priority. That's stupid. I know REALLY that size and weight don't matter. They don't affect how beautiful and good of a person I am. Still...I can't really agree with that wholeheartedly. I know my loved ones could care less about my size. And yet *I* care. I wish I didn't, I really wish.
I don't know how to change my mindset. YES, I am sick and tired of this stupid disorder. But how can I let go of it on my own at home? I am afraid I might need treatment again... I just don't think I'm strong enough to recover on my own.

Today I started to be even more conscientious of my food intake. I can feel my mindset switching back to restrictive thinking. I want so badly to restrict my calories. I ate a healthy amount of food today and it's killing me, knowing that. If it were up to me I know I wouldn't eat a thing. If I was living on my own I would go as long as my body could handle, eating as little as possible, until I became super bone-skinny, until I'd die. It's SO fucking stupid to want this. What would dying to become thin accomplish?
Still, I want it so bad it hurts. I internally freaked out over dinner because I wanted to eat no more carbs for the day. But I had to eat an entire half of a baked potato. All of it. It was humongous and so filling. Made me so uncomfortable; I feel like a huge whale. Even though my lunch probably consisted of more calories than my dinner, because I had dessert after my lunch.
I plan on reducing if not completely cutting out my snacks and desserts. I just can't anymore. I can't continue to let myself eat so unhealthily. I won't restrict; I can't do that or I'd never hear the end of it from my family. It upsets them 1000 times more than it does me. Hearing all their shit always makes me give in and binge. I wish they would leave me alone. They make it so fucking hard to live with this ED. I hate living at home because my family is always on my back so I can't cut, I can't starve, I can't purge. All I can do is eat eat EAT and so I do it. And stay so damn fat.
It's killing me, looking like this. I want to change it so badly. Every time I look in the mirror I despise what I see. I hate myself so much. No one could comprehend how much I hate my body and I how much I hate my eating habits. I need to stop eating so much. I need to never eat desserts ever again. I need to cut out as much carbs as I can in my diet. I need to cut out everything, honestly. But I won't. Only because of the shit I get from everyone when I restrict. It's not worth it.
I just keep sitting here waiting for the day I can get out from under my family's noses. So then I can lose as much weight as I can.
Sorry to be so depressive tonight; I know I said for the new year's I would quit with these harmful behaviors. But I am not going to go and restrict majorly. I'm only going to cut out some things.
Even if I keep eating healthy, the thoughts will never go away. I just want to be thin again. Will I ever get my old body back?

2014

I'm going to try to start out this New Year well. I don't need to cut or purge or starve to make myself real anymore. I am alive and fully functioning. The depression isn't consuming my life anymore. I am no longer as crazy as I became at 14. It took 4 years for me to get back to this state, even though I am still not fully stable. But I am here and alive and hopeful. I have a hold of my life after so many years of not caring.
I wish the past didn't haunt me so much but I have to live with it. Truthfully, I am sad to see all my self harm and suicide attempts stay in the past. I liked the idea of having something wrong with me, having the threat of my life on the line. Of being so fucked up I was in and out of hospitals and treatment centers. I liked the idea of not having to live at home in the real world. I could just go and overdose, poison myself, or have a cutting episode and get sent back to the hospital. It was even worth it if I ended up in the emergency room again. I have lost count of how many times I have had to go to the emergency room, because honestly I have been there more times than I have been to the psych hospital.
Yeah, I am going to miss all of that, as fucked up as that sounds. I guess my insanity became my identity. Being cut up and scarred became my identity, just as how being skinny became my identity after that.
Now what is my identity? I'm not skeletal anymore. My scars have faded, the only ones very noticeable now are the old raised white ones, and the newer cuts and scratches created in 2013 which still are a bit purple.
I don't know who I am. To myself.
I know who I am to other people. I am a loving girlfriend, daughter, sister, friend. I am a healthy girl in recovery. I am not cured completely but I am definitely better.
So I guess that's who I really am: better. I hate to admit it, hate to have my psychotic identity stripped from me, but that's how it is.
I don't need to be sick anymore to get attention or prove my worth. Who wants to love a sick girl, who may be dead tomorrow, next week, or next month...? Why would anyone want to love someone like that? It HURTS.
So I have to stay strong now. Even if it sounds corny. Even if it pisses me off. Even if I don't know exactly who I am to myself anymore.
I just have to keep moving on. I hope the past will stop haunting me so much.
Happy belated new year.