I’m still alive. I will definitely be happy.

they put me into a stupid treatment program and i have togain weight. but theres a bulimic in my room. we conspire and steal food from the kitchen, binge and purge. and i thought that i finally defeated bulimia. nevertheless, they found all my vomit. now i cant even purge. ive got pills. im sure that if i overdose, ill die. nows the perfect time to do it.

47,4kg 104,8 lbs, BMI 15,8, hospital, round 3. 7 weeks to go. i’m gonna kill myself.

It’s dark. It’s dirty.

It’s not graceful. Not elegant. Nothing to be proud of. You binge, you are a fat pig that isn’t even able to control yourself. You are a greedy fuck. You eat until there’s nothing left.

Pig. Mirror, mirror, don’t look into the mirror, you think. you do. Fuck. There it is, Your stomach and your hipbones forming a perfect bouncing jelly-squishy-fat-pig-shit-filled-fuck. You slap it. Then comes the dark moments. The next thing you know, food’s coming out of your nose together with your stomach acid. Yummy. This goes on for some while.

You look into the mirror again. You even step onto the scale. Fuck you, fat pig. You cry. But wait, there’s this greedy little voice inside your head, nastily whispering, like a ghost, ‘moAR FOOOOOOOOOOD’ and there you go, stomach bouncing around, into the kitchen, you open the fridge and the same thing begins again. You won’t stop. You’ll never stop. Depending on your sickness, you even eat raw eggs, raw rice, raw noodles. I did. My parents cried, screamed, while I was checking the kitchen for more food to stuff into my stomach. Don’t worry, sometimes I was sane enough to boil or fry the things. But mostly I wasn’t patient enough. That’s my bulimia. Bulimia is never about patience. It’s trying to fill your emptiness with food. I’m empty. I’m sick.

I remember the cold months of eating very little all day. I was hungry. But this hunger, is different. I’m using food to cover another need. There’s something I seek. But it’s not food.

Still, I want to be thin. That’s how it all started. How this journey started.

Still, I’m not recovered. I don’t even want to be recovered.

Still, I’m underweight. Which is good. I think that I’m fat. Which is why I want to lose weight. Pro ana/Pro mia is helping me. I’ll stop the pro mia part. Bulimia is shit. I hate bulimia. I hate it. it’s destroying me. I need to be under the protective wings of anorexia. I want to be anorexic, yes that’s true.

Bye, bulimia, I’m saying that. That’s my final decision. Even if I binge, I won’t purge. I hate you, I loathe you, I decided to take another path.

Finally out of hospital!!!! I managed to skip breakfast today, I drank two cups of black coffee till now, I’ll go buy a scale today that also shows the percentage of body fat. I’m perfectly sane, I’m motivated to lose a lot of weight, I’m gulping down handfuls of laxatives, I’ll go to school starting tomorrow, there’ll be a prom on saturday, I won’t go there cause I’m fat, my parents think I’m crazy, well.

I’ll go shopping today since I skip school.

These are the things I’m gonna buy:
The scale (not the cheap, inaccurate thingy I bought last time)

diet soda

maybe some diet pills/laxatives

a frame for a picture I painted in hospital.

Finally, I’m free.

My parents want me to go see a therapist. I don’t want to. I want to diet and lose weight. I want to weight 100 lbs. I want to be skinny and happy.

I’ll start to go to school again. There’ll be the usual stress and homework again. I hope I can start dieting and stop bingeing. I hope I can start a life again. I hope these tears can dry.

I phoned my best friend and my crush yesterday. I cried a lot. My life’s a real mess. Like my room, full of vomit. I hate myself. My fatness, my swollen lips, my everything. I don’t want anything right now, I want to die. I wonder if I should start to cut myself. But I’ll just wait. I’ll leave hospital, start a therapy and start going to school. I’ll start dieting and reach my goal weight and confess to my crush. But where will this lead me? Why am I doing this? right now, I’m just so fucking fucking lonely. I need somebody. I just turned insane. Pro ana and pro mia has turned me insane.

We talked and talked today. It’s so different when there’s someone like you, who understands you.

too fat to deserve a life.

my god, my fat stomach is sticking out again.

but actually, i was expecting something much worse.

01. 02. 2012 – RESTART

OK, first of all, I’ve been in hospital since December 16^th or something like that. I’ll stay there till February 14^th. But I’ve got my strategies to trick nurses and so on since I’ll not be weighed every day.

My breakfast will be either an apple with cinnamon or a low-fat yoghurt with cinnamon,

My lunch will be as little as possible, which means either salad without dressing if there’s one in the hospital shit they give you, or just two bites of anything else,

And I’ll ask if ‘I can eat dinner outside with my family’ which I won’t do. And if I’m allowed to go outside I won’t eat at all, which means either school or staying at home. I did so for many days and didn’t lose any weight. Well, probably also because of those binges. They’ll stop. I swear.

You’ll probably wonder what happened.

There’s that girl. You know, the one in the same room as I, who didn’t eat for something like 2 years.

She started to eat.

And I’ll stop bingeing. It’s the usual stuff. She stops being anorexic, I stop being bulimic. (and become anorexic again, but that’s another story)

So. Goal weight is 45 kilos. I’ll check my SW tomorrow morning. Will probably be a lot after that binge today. I’m ashamed of myself. And I hate hospital.

Oh, yes, I went to school again, after more than a month. The usual stuff. “Oh hi, Mary, you again? do you feel better?” “yeah.” “Well, then it’s great” End of the conversation. They don’t know that I’m in the psycho department of the hospital. They probably think it’s something with my blood or my heart or some shit like that. My ass, that’s shit.

Two new anorexics in the room next to ours. My god. I’m envious. They eat and everybody thinks “OOOOh great they’re eating, that’s a good thing” I eat and a bipolar pig girl (sorry, but she really looks like that) who takes drugs asks me “yummy?” I say “No” She says “Can I have it?” I say “take it”.

My family? A mess right now. They’re still eating like pigs, but I don’t wanna talk about this.

And I was delighted when I was googling ‘marya hornbacher thin’ and one of my photos popped up.

So, that’s for today. Now I’ll be watching ‘the best little girl in the world’ and drinking some tea. and probably binge and purge. But that’s another story.

And bought a new scale and hid it in my room. The doctors let me out occasionally. I’ll be discharged on Valentine’s day, being fat of course. Today, before leaving hospital, a nurse asked me: “What food are you taking with you?” “An apple” “Not enough” “Why? I’m gaining weight anyways.” “Why?” “Because my body’s like that.” Nurse shrugs her fat shoulders. Doesn’t understand. me, being fat, so fucking fucking fucking fat. Because of my bulimia and depression and NOT because of anorexia, I’m not even allowed to go on the trip with my class I was looking forward to. Now there’s vacation And I’ll have to spend them in hospital - again.