Today I spilled my most carefully guarded secret during a regular therapy session. I'm not even sure how that happened, one moment I was discussing some difficulties I was dealing with at my new job and then by the end of the hour I was sobbing and officially diagnosed as having an eating disorder.
I was under the impression that maybe talking about it would help me to not binge today, and at first I was very good and went out and had a small latte afterwards and made a sensible, healthy dinner and stayed within my calorie range for the day (1000). I even read a couple chapters of the book my therapist loaned me. And then a little later, despite not feeling hungry at all, I felt that familiar compulsion to go into the kitchen and cobble together some ridiculous fattening thing and consume until it hurt. And I did. That's the second time in two days and I'm terrified of how my morning weigh in will go. I was already planning a fasting day since I'm off work, but it was supposed to be one to get more weight off, not to deal with a fuck up.
The only good thing about today is that my therapist isn't going to force me into the hospital at the current time. But I honestly think it's only because she knows that I don't have health insurance right now.
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