Last Day, Again.

Destroy one special relationship... sabotage another.
I'm a great person. Lose best friend, lose therapist in same week.

I realized there's 1% of me that's not willing to give up these disorders. And that's what's been stopping me, other than my stubbornness, unwillingness to forgive, not wanting to grow up, wanting comfort, rescue, love, and kind words, being afraid of responsibility. Blah blah blah. Today was extremely shocking, embarrassing, humiliating, sickening. It started good, but I knew it was going to be bad. Because it was all decided in my head how I was going to spend it. Stupid, right.

Saw pictures of the beach outing that I missed out on because I just could not bear to see him there.

He hadn't gone.

Still, I could not have been in the mood to be happy, and too embarrassed to show my fat face to my school friends, who have only seen me skinny.

I miss being skinny. It was my pride and joy to be called small, pretty, cute, adorable, skinny. SMALL. Pride and joy. Stupid. I'm so materialistic...? External. But it's a relief to have the agony of losing my best friend relieved, because I'm stupidly focusing all my life on this eating disorder. Stupid. Stupid. I want to know how he is. Is he fine already? I'm just worried, and so sorry.

My therapist said I knifed him, I did. I'm knifing my whole family, and her. Stabbing them with what I'm doing. Hurting everyone. I'm so numb, I'm unbelievable.

I can't go to camp fat. I just can't. There's so much I want to do, and I feel I can't do itf I'm fat. If it's that important to me, why do I keep doing this? Tomorrow it starts again. It feels so hopeless and stupid, just stupid stupid. How many times have I said, "from tomorrow, I'll diet" blah blah BLAH. Well, it has to be. I have less than two weeks to lose I don't even know how many pounds. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I feel sick. Terrified.

I just wish my therapist had some kinder words, a softer approach to helping me. Tough love, harsh advice. HE was so kind, gentle, understanding, encouraging... that's why I got too attached. And now he's gone, my therapist almost gave up on me because I hadn't told her about him, and she was blown away by my dishonesty. Chapter two problems are related to my eating disorders, she says. How? How? I have to. I have to. I missed the beach outing. I won't miss another fun outing. This Thursday is a sleepover at our house already, I'm screwed. Monday is a concert at the fair I'm going to for sure, I won't miss Tenth Avenue North. And then... camp. Oh my God, I'm scared. I'm scared to go fat, I'm scared to be energiless there, I'm scared of being fat forever. I can't stand it. I won't stand it. I hate this. I hate this. It's the worst physical feeling. This week has been terrible. I know I deserved it. I have to be a better daughter. I have to. Father's Day tomorrow? I have nothing. Nothing. But I have new goals starting tomorrow. Nothing will get in my way. I'll use my stupid stubbornness for this. If I follow the structure of last crash diet, I can lose 3 pounds the first day, then 2 each day after for a week. It was awesome, I can't believe I threw it away. This time I'll be more careful. I have a plan. Jenny does not fail when it comes to diet. I'll be my ideal weight again, and NO it is not going to be 85 pounds again. It's not even 94.5, Inoue Mao's weight, Becky's weight. My perfect weight was 107. Ish. I'd be happier with a safe little bumper, so maybe 103. Please. Please. Please. I have to.