Fuck not having a gag reflex. I don't purge. Not since I was in high school at least. But something about today and this week and all this shit I've been dealing with, today I tried my damnedest to purge after an especially painful binge. Handsfree had never failed me before but all I could do was cough. Shoving my fingers down my throat was weird and uncomfortable but not at all nauseating. I sat on the bathroom floor feeling like a failure because I couldn't throw up.

Yesterday night was emotionally exhausting. I was at a party and ended up spending an hour with my drunken best friend clinging to me and sobbing about how much she loves me and how she wants me to be ok. Having to go to work today was awful because I just wanted to be alone. I put on an extra cheerful face because I didn't want anyone to ask me what was wrong.

I want to purge out the feelings more than anything.

My best friend and I made plans to hang out tonight. When she finally got off work and was on the way to get me, I got a text saying that she was bringing her boyfriend along. Because that's just what I wanted, to be the third wheel all night.

He stared at me during dinner as he shoved a giant burger and fries down his throat. I picked at my salad awkwardly and dipped the fork in dressing between bites. My friend is used to this, but her boyfriend gave me looks like I was a freak.

Afterwards I went outside to smoke. He thinks smoking is a disgusting habit and made my friend quit. I was hoping to go out alone, but they both came with and he just kept giving me dirty looks the whole time while I was trying to enjoy my cigarette.

He tried to pressure my friend into ending the evening so they could go home together. When she wouldn't agree he demanded to be taken home immediately. He told her not wake him up when she got in later.

We went to the dollar store after dropping him off. My friend had to go to the bathroom and I used the opportunity to hide a couple boxes of laxies under the low cal cereal and buttery pan spray in my basket. The cashier was careful and discrete when she handled them so my friend didn't see what they were.

We couldn't think of anything else to do that didn't require a lot of money so my friend brought me home. The car was stopped in front of my building and she said I love you, please get better. I said I'm trying. She said I'm glad you're trying, please get help. I lied and said I would. I wanted to tell her that she should get help too because she always dates manipulate assholes and it makes me worry. But I kept quiet and hugged her and got out of the car.

I came inside and put away my groceries and popped some of the little yellow pills. Can't start tomorrow's fast properly unless I clear out the sins of today.

Black coffee and cigarettes for lunch, same as every other day at work. Except this time the Boy was out on his smoke break and noticed that I was chain smoking and not eating. He smiled and laughed and said it's like I'm a model. Because it's funny and glamorous to have an ED, obviously.

My attempts at restricting got completely derailed today. But I get to start over again on Wednesday with a fast and hopefully next week goes right. I was so stressed out from work that at the end of the night I bought some binge food. When I got home I worked my way through 2/3 of a pack of oreos and a decent sized tub of guacamole spread on tortillas. Normally I can eat the whole box of oreos but apparently there's been some stomach shrinkage from restricting lately. I'm in pain and I know the numbers will be way high come morning. Ugh.

New Boy has been handling me extra carefully the last couple of days. I've been more irritable than usual and am especially hateful when told to do bullshit tasks. So far he's been framing all his requests in super polite terms and following up with me after to find out if everything went ok. I really appreciate being treated like an adult person with feelings. I told him that I think he should be in charge of the floor all the time. The other supes continue to speak to me condescendingly about everything, demand I do stupid tasks right this instant, and say I'm lazy if I stand still for one second, so I make sure to take 10 times as long as necessary and badmouth them behind their backs. Oh hey, yep this is why I never get promotions.

I need to get it together.

This morning the scale said I was 157 on the dot. I haven't been this weight since February. My tightest jeans are now a bit loose in the thighs and waist. My ass still looks huge so I'm wearing untucked button up shirts to cover it.

I'm at work. New Boy hasn't seen me all week, so to him the 4 pounds I've lost since last weekend are probably more noticeable. He came and stood by my register and smiled at me until I asked if he needed something. He said, nope, I was just gonna bag for you but there's nothing to bag. It's hard to do the right thing when the wrong thing is right there and smiling at you. Kind of the way everything in my life is. Why eat when I get so much satisfaction out of feeling my stomach grumble as it lays flat under my jeans?

The last few days I've been downloading and watching made for TV movies about EDs. This morning I started in on the Thin documentary. I don't know why I'm doing this. Compulsion.

I'm tired.

When I first got my driver's permit at 16, I lied and put my weight as 165 on the application. In reality I was somewhere over 200 pounds, but couldn't stand the idea of admitting that to the people at the DMV. 165 seemed like an unattainable goal even though I was already engaging in ED behaviors. I was in high school, but my mother still packed my lunches for me every day. I felt bad about throwing out the sandwiches and snacks she would get up early in the morning to prepare before she left for work, so it was around that time when I asked her to give me lunch money or prepackaged snacks instead. My backpack and locker were full of uneaten granola bars and poptarts all the time, I couldn't give them away fast enough.

I've been hovering in the high 150s since February. The once unattainable 165 now seems like a bloated and disgusting weight that I can never allow myself to hit again. Every new low weight I hit is the lowest I've been in my adult life, it feels simultaneously like a huge victory and a massive failure. Because it's never enough.

So pissed. After laxing the day before and water fasting all day yesterday, my weight was still up this morning. The binging and drinking was way worse than I had figured.

Also I can't tell if I'm getting sick or I'm just allergic to the incense I burned last night. But my throat is killing me. The good thing is that it means I don't want any solid foods.

After the long drunken conversation my friend and I had the other night, I have decided it's time to make an effort to get over New Boy. I know it's going to be really fucking difficult, but ultimately it's for the best. I can't go around breaking my heart with guys like him, it messes me up so much. The funny thing is, this is the one friend I have who is all for going after New Boy, and something about the way he encouraged me makes me know it's the wrong thing to do.

It's Wednesday, which for me now is a day of fasting and prayer. During the service tonight I lit some candles on the alter for my family, my friends, and myself. I specifically asked to be forgiven for what I've been doing and for help to find someone to love me like I deserve. Because really, that's what I want so bad is someone who loves me because of and in spite of everything I am. I'm so tired of being alone.

I love you, be safe, stay strong. You deserve so much.

Yesterday was terrible. I woke up from a vivid nightmare about people I care about being hurt and killed, and it just fucked up my day from the beginning. I was planning to do laundry and clean the house before work, but I got on the scale and saw that I'd magically gained 2 pounds overnight because of binging and so the only logical thing I could think of was to get back in bed and eat almond butter from the jar. Because nothing solves a binge like more binging. I managed 4 days of fasting and restriction in the last week, and I'm starting over tomorrow with my weekly Wednesday fast and maybe if I work hard there will be 5 days without a binge.

Anyway, a huge component of the nightmare involved my friend being badly injured and me trying to get medical attention for him but nobody would help drive us to the hospital. So when I worked with him last night I was rather more clingy with him than usual and I ended up getting him to spend the night with me. Because when I get all fucked up in the head over my nightmares I get really protective and worried that something bad will happen if I'm not around. It's completely stupid, but I woke up this morning and was able to verify that he was alive and whole and now I'm not fixated on the images of him being hurt and scared.

We got drunk last night and as per usual I suffered from uninhibited word vomit syndrome. But I don't feel bad because he did the same thing. I do regret that I fucked up the anonymity of this blog in a moment of carelessness. I don't know if he will go looking for it or if he remembers, but I might be deleting and starting over somewhere else. That would be the smart thing to do. It's one thing to verbally share secrets, it's entirely something else when you've shared the location of a publicly available written record of your fucked up mental state. This is why I never use names or state locations in specific terms. But still I'm an idiot.

Things that would've been useful to know three months ago: the Boy really is bisexual. I don't blame him for not being out about it, everyone thinks he's a whore anyway and it would just add fuel to the fire. But still, I wish I'd at least known when I actually was considering him, instead of being in turmoil for months that any attention I showed would be unwanted. I feel shitty because it feels like during the months of inaction, we mutually friendzoned each other and now I'll never know if it could've been something.

While my friend and I were drunk last night we went to the convenience store for more cigarettes and trashy junk food we didn't end up eating. I ate everything after he left earlier, and very seriously considered purging just to make the bloated full feeling go away. Instead I'm taking laxies because right now I don't give a fuck about the calories I just want to be empty.

I wonder if anyone will read this.

As a way of dealing with how direction less my life has been feeling lately, I've started going back to church. I'm not sure of how it will feel in the long run, but having been raised as a strict Christian with weekly services giving a rhythm to my life, it feels comfortable going back to that. I don't (and never will) attend services in the particular brand of Christianity that I was raised in, but there's a church I've been going to on and off for two years and it fulfills most of my needs.

My friends invited me to go to yoga today, but I feel tired from fasting yesterday. It feels weak and wrong to turn down the opportunity to exercise. I told them I'd meet them after. I'm worried this will involve dinner out somewhere because they know about the ED. I wish I had never told anyone.

I tried to weigh myself this morning but the batteries on the Wii board are dead and I have to wait for them to recharge now. The console said it's been 76 days since my last weigh in. That's some kind of record for me I think.

I'm jealous of how skinny New Boy is. I see him eating all the time which makes it worse. Then I spend all this mental energy wondering why he bothers flirting with me when I must be 30 pounds heavier despite being half a foot shorter. I realized the other day that the biggest thing that would hold me back from having sex with him is the fact that he'd have to see me at least partially undressed.

I think it's funny when people tell me I'm thin. I only appear that way because I'm being compared to the standard American. Working at a grocery store is so horrifying, I want to escape back to the safety of selling skinny clothes to skinny people.

Mood swings? What mood swings?

After going to bed last night and feeling like I wanted to be dead, today saw me in an almost cheerful mood. What the fuck? These pills are supposed to even things out and all they seem to have smoothed over is my seething rage, but the crushing despair is still absolutely there to rear its ugly head at inopportune moments. And I need something better for my anxiety attacks, the pills the doctor gave me just make me feel faint and sleepy.

I'm not exactly sure when all my conversations with New Boy started taking place in whispers while we are standing dangerously close together. His voice sounds low and rough when he's quiet, and I always feel intensely aware of the warmth of his body next to me. Work seems more interesting because everything feels like it's a secret, even asking for a roll of quarters for my till. I try not to think too hard about the reality of the situation because it hurts to know he's not really mine.

I need to set aside the money I used to spend on therapy and use it to get a gym membership instead. And then I need to get off my ass and go for a couple hours every day. Or go look on craigslist for a cheap treadmill and never have to leave the house or deal with nosy gym members. Which I'd much prefer. Now that I got rid of the couch I sort of have enough space for one.

My parents will be here in the morning and I feel really unprepared to deal with them. I just wanna hide in bed forever.

I was right, it's not convenient for my friends to help me occasionally. Which is funny, because I'm always there when they want help. Guess who isn't doing shit for anyone anymore. Me.

I was on the phone with my mother today and told her I will never fall in love and be with anyone. She said it was good that I knew I wasn't ready for it at the moment. I told her she wasn't listening to me, that by never I meant never. I said that everyone leaves and it's not worth it. I also mentioned that I think her husband is a jerk and we will never get along, and that she's got too many problems and that's why I have a bad relationship with her. I guess I'm being too honest with people today. I wonder if she cried about what I said.

Everything sucks and I hate people and I wish I didn't have to be here anymore.

I've quit therapy, finally. We were supposed to have a final session last week, but I never made the appointment and she hasn't called again. I lied a few weeks ago and told her I was getting into the free ED group therapy I mentioned on here a while ago. And I also said I was going back to my old therapist for individual sessions, the one I stopped seeing 3 years ago. (I'd be embarrassed to go back to see her, I was doing so well when I ended the sessions with her. I don't want her to see what a mess I became in the interim.) I'm still on my meds and I have almost endless refills and the ability to go get more from my doctor when I need them. I can't afford more therapy even if I wanted it. It was getting to the point where every week was an endless repetition of "I know you don't want to eat, but you need to so you don't get sick" and "I know you're afraid to be in a relationship again, but you should start going on dates."

I've been obsessively cleaning my house in small portions. The kitchen is nearly done, including washing the dishes that have been at the bottom of the sink growing disturbing molds for several months. I've also tackled small parts of the living area and bathroom. The secret behind this is that the weather has finally been sunny and warm, so now at least the seasonal depression has lifted and now I'm able to get out of bed sometimes. Plus my parents are visiting this week and I don't like my mother to see that I generally live in squalor. Annnnnd... the Boy might be coming over to get drunk at my house. At the same time that my parents are visiting. It's probably the worst idea I've ever come up with.

Here's the story: I just can't handle being around my dad without a buffer anymore, so I asked my mom if I could bring a friend on this family outing. Turns out that none of my friends could make room in their schedule for this. In desperation, I asked the Boy if he would hang out with me and promised he could be drunk for this. He said he'll let me know when I see him at work tomorrow. I'm hoping he says yes because I've run out of people to ask and time to find anyone else. But I know most likely he will flake and then I can feel extra sad because as usual I never have friends when I really need them. It's simply not convenient to be friends with me.

As I mentioned, the sunshine has been helping to lift some of the depression. The meds are keeping me generally even tempered and non-ragey. And going anywhere outside after dark induces dry mouthed terror. Hell, having the windows open at night and hearing people walk by on the sidewalk has upset me on more than a few occasions. I've gotten to the point where I worry that someone outside might see the lights on in my windows and decide it would be an excellent idea to break into my house. If I have to be at work after sundown, not only do I spend the entire time worrying about the walk home after my shift, but all the creepy things that customers think are appropriate to say to a cashier feel even more upsetting and threatening. The walk home from work consists of 30 minutes of me thinking I'm absolutely going to be murdered and probably raped by the homeless men and random thugs who catcall me. (As everyone loves to tell me, I am apparently too pretty to be a boy. In the dark from across the street, the creeps always assume I'm a woman.)

This is depressing as fuck. I hate my life.