Come on, come on...

Biked 32 miles yesterday... yesssss... felt so good, sweaty, tired, awesome!

Walked 4.6 miles, back from church, then biked 5 miles to the park to see the free concert that no one will go with me to so I will MAKE my own happiness and not depend on anyone else! Now for my daily walk with my sister... and then a movie and bed.

And today, food was good! No control-issues, a bit of anxiety, but overall splendid! :D I'm so happy! I have accidentally decided to not think about camp, not worry about it because there's nothing I can do about it anyway, so I will just freak out, cry, and be terrified this Thursday evening while I'm getting ready to go.

He invited me to hang out before he performs at the fair tomorrow. Hang out, with other friends too if they can make it... but... honestly, I'm scared. I don't want to. But I...

Yesterday, I biked to school. That was my plan. I visited my building, but then wondered... what if I keep going? Just going straight... I've never seen the end of this street. Okay so I kept going and going, and singing along OUT LOUD with my iPod, belting out songs cuz no one was around... the street turned into another name, and another name... then I thought.

What if I bike to HIS house?

It's MILES away, a little DRIVE, but... what if. Once I imagined myself going to bike to visit him for fun... of course, when we were still friends. But well, when the idea popped into my head, there was no turning back.

I got quite lost, in the middle of a big dusty industrial area/brown fields. It hit me where I was, I was WAY OFF, so I just followed my shadow and OH YEAH. I was so happy when I made it, not because it was his house but because I found my way and I knew it was MILES and miles.

I sat across his street and wrote my journal. Then... I wrote a note in the code he taught me that we used to use, snuck up to his grandpa's pick up truck, stuck it under the windshield wiper, and hightailed outta there.

32 miles... 5 hours... sweaty, aching... physically so happy :)

Bulimia free for one day, yay. Baby steps...

So Hard.

Five and a half days without throwing up, thrown out the window one hour ago.

No, not thrown out. I will keep increasing this period of time until it's NEVER. I am learning so much about myself, with my therapist and just thinking so much. I exercised so much this week to lose weight, and I've been severely disappointed no matter how hard I try, and I think because I restricted my food too much, I began to crave more and couldn't take it. I'm SO lucky and grateful I'm not completely out of control, and I ate too much FRUIT instead of junk food. But I don't know how long I can be good. I'm trying, I'm trying, I'm trying.

I read somewhere a long time ago, that a fast/strict diet is toughest on the 6th day. I can definitely attest to this. Today is my 5th day though. Gosh darns it all. My throat hurts. Please God, be with me? I'm so scared. I still miss him. But I'm putting You at my center, You at my center God. Please help me, please.

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.

Bulimarexic

THAT'S what I am. Two into one. I would've never, ever guessed that I would become one. But that's all I know now.

Since yesterday the losing best friend agony was lifted so much, my mangled heart is only throbbing with pain now. Probably because stupid bulimia has taken over. Completely. Once my mom left the house with me only with my sleeping little sister, I knew I was doomed. For ten seconds, I felt a euphoric control, like I'd be okay after one bowl of cereal. But yes, ten seconds only. And then, that's why the agony is numb, because I am numb. And inbetween numb, I am writhing in guilt, humiliation, self-hatred, fatness, fear, utter terror, a different agony, and then missing him.

Loneliness has returned. Even though my mom knows everything, HE was the only one who happily checked on me everyday, knowing everything. And now that my rescuer is gone, the little girl in me (therapist named her "Little Jenny" appropriately) who doesn't want to grow up is freaking out, completely flailing in a tantrum, and making me do this. I can't stop. I can't stop. Agh my throat hurts. How many times has it been today now? Only four, oh.

I MISS HIM, @#*$)$^*@#$& I MISS HIM, MY BEST FRIEND OF FOUR MONTHS. It's so scary to be alone again, to feel like I will never, ever get better from these stupid eating disorders and will be fat, fat, fat and everyone at camp will hate me, look at my fatness and I will eat too much and throw up even at camp, and totally not focus on my group or God, and will feel even more guilt and shame and my group will hate me, I will get nothing out of camp except more weight, why can't I stop, why can't I even cry. Bulimia hell, bulimia hell, goddammit. Typed in "bulimic blog" in google and found dozens of people going through the exact same thing like me. They describe my typical day perfectly. A waste of time, food, money, energy, life.

Even though I saw my other school friend, my religious friend, today and told her everything that happened with my best friend, I felt a bit of relief, but then I went home to numb out all the feelings I had brought up. Numb, fear, fat, numb, fear, fat blah blah blah. I had a few hours of bliss today though. It was amazing. I was READING. Something I hadn't done since spring semester began. Truly, getting lost in a good book. It was wonderful.

And then it was dinner time. And then... everyone left the house, leaving me with... the house. And then... stupid.

Beastly was a good book, wow. Finished it in less than a day, after I just finished JANE EYRE which took six months, but was sooo good. Should I just read all summer and hope I lose weight by not thinking about food? I had so many hopes for this summer. So many glorious hopes. Now I'm doomed to hell, it seems. Someone, please throw me into a hospital where they will lock me into a room, give me the only food I can eat, and fix me.

It makes me feel better. It's an excuse, but it makes me feel better. That this isn't just a lack of willpower, that it's a medical condition and many people have it. My therapist deals with the internal aspects, the cause and motivations behind my disorders. Well, I hope it gets worse right before I get better, because this is the worst, and if I don't get better... I don't know. I really don't know. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. Bulimia hell. I hate this. I hate this. This sucks. This week is the worst week in my entire life. Agony. "Devastating agony," I shall forever remember this week. June 13, the sudden goodbye from my best friend who I thought I'd be friends with forever. Of course we're not totally over, he's downgraded me into a "casual friend," but still the devastating goodbye. Tuesday night, the official "unbecoming of friends."

Agony. Agony. Devastation. That's all I can think all week. Fat. Agony. Uncontrollable. Checking my phone whenever I see it, just yearning for a text from him to ask, "how are you?" like he did every day. Wondering if he's totally fine and I'm making a big girly fussy teary mess out of it. If I want him to hurt or not. If I want to stop hurting and feel guilty for not hurting more, but being unable to bear the hurt. Stupid. Binge purge, fat, sick, disgusting, I HATE this, I HATE this, DGHSIADFLSDI awt9ph; ;awioeufhaq3rh;sjdfh;sajdfh;ah STUPID. IF I COULD NEVER EAT AGAIN, I WOULD, GODDAMMIT. No matter how many times I pray to God that he is the center of my life, he is the center, I don't need my ex-best friend there that was a mistake, it doesn't help. I'm hopeless. No number of friends and family praying for me is going to help when it's all my fault that I'm stuck like this. I want to live, I want to be free oh my god, please, I want to be free.

Agony Pt. 3

And it continues.

Mourning the loss of the best friend who knew everything about me, took care of me, looked out for me, understood me, never let me feel lonely. I accidentally put him in the center of my life, and now being suddenly torn out, it hurts like hell. I made a mistake. The little girl in me got too attached to him. But this has to be, because of me.

Yes... I didn't go to the beach. I hope they're having fun. I'm so sorry I couldn't handle it.

Talking to my mom for hours helped a lot. She said time heals all wounds. Time will heal this too. But the agony continued. The agony of overeating and gaining so much weight, plus the hurt I caused him, the devastation raging in my heart, the fear and uncertainty of school life from now on.

My mom says I am so protected by the spirit world and God, that nothing bad actually happened. It did not go anywhere past "really good friends," no physical mistakes, just too attached. I am protected.

At the store I walked to with my mom, there was a flute playing on the Mexican radio. It hurt. His playing made flute music beautiful to my ears. But I must let go. I accept this agony. I feel it, it kills me, but I choose to feel. I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all. Time will heal, I believe it, I do. Please, oh please, this agony will cease. I hope he is all right too. I'm sad to think he may be just fine. Though even sadder and pained to think he is not all right, because of me. I'm so sorry.

I did my condition with my mom today. Afterward... I actually felt a tiny breeze of hope. Time will heal. I am not irreversibly fat. Summer camp can be good if I do my best and just love with all my heart, unconditionally. I can lose at least a few pounds healthily before camp to feel better, loosen my tight clothes, gain sport stamina for games, etc. And if I truly put God at my center, this agony will be relieved, my first broken heart (if this was a first love broken heart, I would be dead from pain, shame, impurity and loss. I am so lucky.) will heal, I can prepare for the matching, and go forth once again with a smile on my face.

Agony Pt. 2

Almost started crying before I was even fully awake. Terrified to get out of bed to face reality, the reality of being fat, of having hurt my best friend, having lost my best friend and not knowing how painful or how coldly we will acknowledge each other today at the beach. I feel like a thousand pounds, literally and metaphorically. This is the very worst I have ever, ever felt in my entire 20 1/2 years living on this Earth that God supposedly made for us to live, grow and bring Him joy.

My mom said I can't go to the beach. She's gonna have to tell my dad what's been happening at school, and she said he might make me drop out. I'm so scared. I keep ruining my own life. I wish I could feel just a little comfort and safety once more. Where does one find comfort, love, and safety? Parents... family... God... church... friends. Well, despising myself this much and not having an ounce of hope to my name, I can't even accept comfort maybe.

What do I do, what do I do. I told my friend I can't go to the beach, she called me to ask why, I can't even tell her it's because I cannot bear to see him. My mom says I have to let go. Just let go. Before, I only saw myself going to the beach. I HAD to go, to see where we stood now, how "just casual and not best friends" felt like. But now... should I really not go? If I didn't see him all summer, maybe by the time fall semester started I would feel like we hadn't talked, hadn't kept each other updated, hadn't connected at all and had been naturally reduced to just casual friends.

I feel like my heart is being mangled between two hands. Squeezed, pulled, just mangled mercilessly. What do I do, oh what. Do. I. Do.

Agony

Suddenly without my always-there best friend, I am pummeled, crushed, and paralyzed by agony, confusion, shock, devastation, pain, loneliness, regret, fear, hurt, guilt, hopelessness, loss, disbelief, torture, terror, uncertainty, trauma.

Anything vaguely close to a unpleasant feeling, God knows how I deal with that. Binge to numb it. When that wears off, feel so, so disgustingly fat and uncontrollably revolting, so purge. Guilty, fat, ugly, agony, loss, devastation all come back. Repeat cycle.

And you have, the worst day in my entire life part 2.

My childhood best friend facebooked me while I was writing a huge confessional letter to my mom, after such purging, while waiting alone for her outside the karaoke building. With my new phone I get vibrations the MOMENT notifications pop up, so... RIGHT then, she was thinking of me? Spiritual...?

I stopped believing in God today. He's never there. He's not here now, when my world shattered and I completely gave up. Utter agony, utter agony, utter agony. There is nothing more. I feel... like I can never be happy again. I will never get better. Life is too hard but suicide leads to eternity of torture, so what the heck am I SUPPOSED TO DO? I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE. I CAN'T! WHAT. AM. I. SUPPOSED. TO. DO.

I can't staff camp like this. I can barely see the stupid computer screen my eyes are blurry, face swollen. Geez, how many hours of tears today and yesterday. This hurts. This really hurts. Why am I not dead yet, from emotional... I dunno, trauma? How is he feeling today? I can't imagine how tomorrow will be, seeing him for the first time with this mind. Our minds. "Un-become best friends"? The most painful words I have ever been told.

And hey, there are only more struggles to come in this world. Marriage, career, in-laws, family, deaths, money, children, eeeeeeeeeeeeeverything? How. Will. I. Survive. I used to think life was joyful, yes life was full of joy and beauty. Now, it's something to survive? Stumble through while getting shot at, drowned, strangled, betrayed, hurt, ignored, angered, terrified...? Why am I so pessimistic. I am hopeless. I am scared. Immature, irresponsible, stubborn, STUBBORN to death.

When was the last time I was happy? Wait, happy? What's happiness? Huh? Happiness? That's Greek to me. Who am I, what am I doing, where am I going, what have I done, and why am I here. I'm not expecting an answer though, oh no, I won't get my hopes up. I cannot withstand another disappointment. I just can't.