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.


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?

12 ounces

7 am:

drink some juice; as it hits your empty stomach you feel like there’s no room for even the liquid to slide through, it’s shrunk down to such a small size. then make a single slice of toast, but don’t eat it until you’ve had a full 12 ounces of water.

12 pm:

the stomach growls, remembering that it wants food, but instead you tell yourself you’re just thirsty. “Just give it three minutes, it’ll be gone soon.” and sure enough the minutes pass along with the uncomfortable churning.

3 pm:

home from school. you let yourself eat a little snack. a handful of chips maybe, or a few pieces of turkey. so long as you don’t forget to knock back those 12 ounces of water beforehand.

7 pm:

dinnertime. you get the smallest bowl from the cabinet. “oh, i’m not that hungry right now, but i’ll have a little” the words slip out and the small fork full of food slowly replaces it, followed by a gulp from another 12 ounce glass of water.

9 pm:

time for bed, but lying there you can’t help but acknowledge the hole in your middle, the clamminess of your hands from low blood sugar. “i just need some more water” and you go again to fill the empty space with 12 more ounces of cold liquid.


you feel your body start digesting itself.

hands shaking,

shallow breathing,

focus leaving.

how much longer can you go like this?

now last year’s jeans are fitting.

now your stomach grows flatter not fatter.

but when will the shedding weight be enough

to warrant some reward through steady eating?

brittle nails,

breaking hair,

weakening resolve.

this is your bed now.

sleep in it.

but don’t dare eat in it.

this is your grave now.

lie in it.

but don’t dare eat in it.