I took the maximum number of laxitive suggested. I feel sick. My stomach feels hot and i feel clamy and like i could puke. 

I gained four pounds this week from being bloated and on my period and not being again to handle my cravings.

All i eat when i do eat is total crap. Junk. Chocolate. Hot dogs (because thats the only food we have in the house). Cheese. 

Thats basically it. But this week i added doughnut holes and mac and cheese because my cramps were so bad i couldnt walk and i woke up at 2am.

I might be subconsciously avoiding my therapist. 

Its scary thinking about working on this. About changing my habits. Yeah i dont like my current methods but its all i have. Its all ive ever had really. And i dont know how to change or get better or what it looks like or if i even can.

And chole and her boyfriend just think im the stereotypical angsty teen whos angry for no reason. He isnt even a part of this family and he gets to quip in with the sardonic comments about how i “look too happy”

I dont know. Its one thing for them to not protect me from each other, but letting an outsider in on it… 

it just doesn’t help anything. It just makes me feel even more of the misfit than i normally do. I know i have a lot of myself to blame for that but he hasn’t even been around a year and its like im the one who should be the stranger in my own house. At Christmas and still today. He fits better than me. 

Ive been secretly hoping maybe i get an ulcer or something. Something to force me to work on my problems for real. But i dont know. 

It gets lonely. I love writing but talking into this virtual notebook gets lonely sometimes. Like right now. I feel like a deflated balloon most of the time.

unforgiving

there’s a solid mass of food sitting in the pit of my stomach

My ears are ringing like windchimes.

i don’t seem to know my limits

cuz i’ve pushed these lines of “healthy” so far out of bounds a few too many times

i do it so often now that i tend to not realize when i’m in it.

the bile leaves my throat raw and numb,

colors the water pale brown,

leaves my mouth sore and glum.

my body’s tired from retching over the cold, porcelain toilet seat.

oftentimes i forget what it’s like not feeling as though

I’m some rotting piece of meat.

I don’t remember what it’s like to not put on this show;

What’s it like to not be playing pretend?

How can I flip this switch and to start to make some amends?

Feeling vs Eating

I eat feelings the way others eat their food.

Only not in the way of processing through them,

Gaining nutrients they may give.

No, more in the way of violently chewing,

Munching down and mashing them between my teeth

Until they become so small and scattered and mixed

That they dont even have the feel or appearance of emotion.

I stuff it down deep in my stomach

Eat it fast and bury it under other things.

So that to me they no longer exist.

I eat feelings in the way others eat their food.

Spit out the mashed up bits and rearrange them until i can more easily and clearly process them with as little work as possible.

So that when i swallow them they go down easy.

Softly. Smoothly. Quickly.