Know how I know I don't have an addiction?

Because it's too easy to quit.

Since my last post, I got really good with it again, then lost it, then back, and its been on-and-off.

Today, for example, if you knew what I ate you'd be disgusted.

Its weird. Nobody says I've actually gained too much back, but my the fat on my stomach and legs feels...firmer. Like all the empty spaces under my skin have filled up.

Anyways...it's always harder in the summer. I get so caught up in trying to convince people that I don't do it, that I end up not doing it. It's messed up.

I'll try harder from now on. Promise. There was this point yesterday when I was really gross about it(I'll spare you the nasty details, but let's just say there was blood) and I remember thinking, I'm okay with being this ugly right now if it means I won't be when other people can see me.

Encouragements:

-my pretty friends who want me to be pretty with them
-the beach
-getting tan and looking cute
-showing up those prissy anorexic chicks when school starts up back again(yes that is probably me just being jealous I know)
-running into kids who knew me when I lost the weight the first time forever ago
-liking myself again

Trying to get back on course(because I fell off the horse)

you can probably guess why I haven't updated this in so long. And I can't say I'm not ashamed-but its honestly not my fault.

You see, I was in a lot of pain for reasons that I will not disclose to a blank screen, and the medication I was on needed to be taken a ridiculous amount of times a day. Also, I had to eat something when I took it, or else I would throw up anyway and still be in pain. So there. Judge me all you want, but I still have my excuses.

Not quite back where I started. But I swear, you never realize how much weight you've lost until you gain it back.

Its been so weird lately, my stomach has been killing me for the two weeks I ate normal. How dare it forget how to disgust? Gawd, it's never there when I need it.

Things have been bad lately, in other news. Everything's getting out of whack. There are these two people...one is getting old faster than me, and the other is making me loook good. No one is where they belong, and I can feel myself falling into the same old competitions and the ugly little cracks.

This isn't an oh-my-god I have to do something anything freakout, or even a my whole world is crashing and I don't even care anymore breakdown. This is simply a fucked situation, and I am screwed and stressed.

This is one of those times you break every window in your house and scream until you can taste the blood.

I'll stop now before I scare anyone.

lovey-doveys,
eli