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God everything is so stressful.

After Thanksgiving was my dad’s birthday.

And today we had a family outing thing, I wasn’t even able to ride my bike.

I’ve been eating so much crap, and so much of it.

I haven’t weighed myself since Wednesday.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive the winter break, since I’ll be around my family for every meal.

Hopefully I can go down to Florida and visit Danni for at least half of it, so I won’t have to put up with it.

Although, come to think of it, that may be worse in terms of food, but at least I’ll be with someone who gets it.

I just don’t know. Things are crazy.

Not doing so hot.

I think I’m going to just not make a detailed personal post.

I can’t reflect on Thanksgiving tonight, I’m trying not to do anything stupid.

The food was amazing, but everything was stressful.

Because there was just so much.

Took laxatives but they haven’t kicked in, so I’m going to bed with my tummy full.

I think I’m not going to weigh myself for about a week. It could be really damaging, I think, if I see that I gained a bunch of weight.

I bought a bike. Burn burn burn.

I’m really anxious about Thanksgiving. I suppose that’s expected though. I’m going to try to just not eat tomorrow. On most Thanksgivings, my mom cooks a nice breakfast, then we cook most of the day preparing for dinner. If anyone is hungry before then they can have food but we really only eat two meals, though they are very large. I really want to just eat normally that day, so that’s why I’m going to do my best not to eat tomorrow.

Danni and I have been doing really well. So, I decided to write a letter explaining that my issues are back in full force. I sent it yesterday late at night, but I told her not to read it until she has the time to concentrate on it and read it with nothing else to do. Hopefully she will before the end of the week, but I don’t want to rush her. I would rather it be read when she’s most comfortable to read it and not pressured. Otherwise, if it’s just me shoving my problems down her throat, what’s the point?

Here’s to hoping that I survive the rest of the week.

33424) I look at my stomach more than I look at my face.

I realized this yesterday, when I was buying some new tops. I went into the dressing room and tried them on. I stood in front of the mirror and did all of the poses that most people do to make sure the clothes fit right. Then I turned to the side and saw how I looked that way, and did the awful sucking-in that I’m guilty of, trying to see how long I could hold it, wondering if I would ever be able to lose all the fat so I could look that thin without sucking in. Then I looked up at my face, really looked… I got close to the mirror, so close I couldn’t see the rest of my body. It was as if I was staring face-to-face with another person. I looked at my skin. My nose. My eyelashes. My lips. Everything. And I realized I may as well have been looking at a stranger.

(Source: confessionsabouteatingdisorders)

Yesterday I had pizza, today I had some Chipotle.

Needless to say I’m not doing so well because of that. Immersing myself in homework so I won’t panic and do something stupid.

Ugh.