I have managed to obtain an incredibly slow, crappy laptop but yay! Now I can spend hours wasting time on a computer rather than in front of a television.
All I seem to do these days is argue with Jamie. Its the same thing everyday, he says he’ll come to see me, he cancels at last minute so its too late to make any other plans, i get pissed off, we argue for hours, consider breaking up, i hang up and then realise i won’t be able to cope with dinner unless we’re okay so i of course call him to apologise for being upset. Its so boring but I don’t know what to do – I feel like I can’t cope being with him but I definitely can’t cope with being without him. Why can’t he just be an asshole all the time? It would make life so much easier, but he has been so supportive over the past six months and he does treat me well, he’s just lazy and as a 29 year old man he has an exceptional need to grow up. Sometimes it feels like I’m the older one.
Gah, boyfriend troubles. Its such a cliche.
Its 4:40 and I’ve drunk water and cranberry juice all day, I don’t know why, something just clicked in my head last night and I just had a desire to restrict again. Not even for weight loss – I felt just as fat at 95lbs as I did at 120, I just feel so…so…identity-less. Its like I’ve given recovery a try and its turned out that I’m just as useless, I don’t even have an excuse to hide behind. I’ll probably feel differently by tomorrow but at the moment….well, I just want to be hungry.
I hope everyone is well.
I don’t have a computer in London, which is highly annoying. I also appear to still not have much of a social life, stepping outside the house for too long ruins all my perfectly timed ‘plans’. What fucking plans? I have quite literally diminished to nothing. All my friends have given up on me and I lost my job at the pub. Why? Because I didn’t turn up last week.
Guess why I didn’t turn up.
I felt too fat.
I haven’t weighed myself in a very, very long time. Generally, I don’t think about it, but when I do I freak out. But my skinny jeans still fit so I guess thats a good sign. I can’t declare that my anorexic thoughts have completely evaporated because they haven’t – I still count every 0.5 of a calorie and feel for my collarbones to check they’re still there so the world is in order. But its easier without the scales. My day generally consists of All Bran, soup, apples, fat free yogurt and rice. And reading. Its all I do and it makes me want to explode or implode. Whatever, I don’t care.
I’ve been depressed. There’s nothing else to really say. I came back to Sussex for the week to clear my head – I couldn’t trust myself alone but I haven’t told anyone that, my mum just thinks I missed the family.
The truth is I’ve fought the urge to down the 5 boxes of sleeping pills I’ve collected almost every night for the past 3 weeks. I wish I cared about the people close to me as little as I cared about myself.
Because then I’d be dead and free already.