But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prefered:Bulimic over Anorexic I make all these vows that I can't keep. I'm such a disgusting person. In the last five hours I have binged and purged three times. I ate three cups of pasta, two quarts of ice cream, a package of graham crackers, four baked apples in syrup, half a loaf of bread with butter and cinnamon/sugar, almost a whole chicken, a bag of rice cakes, two cups cereal, a turkey sandwich, and bits of everything in my reach. My mom and I got into a huge fight at dinner time. She told me to eat some chicken, and when I told her I had already eaten my turkey sandwich and rice cakes, she said, "Of course you would rather eat your processed packaged foods than what your mother cooks!" I said, "Well I know the calories in this! This is healthy!" She started yelling at me and telling me what an insult it is that I don't eat what she cooks. I watched her take the chicken out of the oven. There was a thick pool of grease in the pan that she dumped out. The baked apples are doused in syrup. Too much of a binge food. Corn bread. I could eat the whole pan. Finally I agreed, but I was so angry that I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "Fine, I'll eat it and throw it up!" I said. Than she said, "No, don't eat it!" Well after all that, I was going to eat it. She kept on yelling at me not to eat it after I served myself a plate that I got so angry and threw it on the floor. The dogs quickly attacked it. "Do you know what an insult it is to tell me that you will just throw up what I make to eat?!" she yells. "Mom! You know I have an eating disorder. I have been in treatment like twenty times! You cant force me to eat fattening foods!" I say. She shakes her fist at me and yells, "There isn't an ounce of fat on you! You are tiny!" I say, "You told me that when I was 126 pounds!" I say. Back and forth we went. In the meantime I have pulled my half eaten turkey sandwich out of the trash and am devouring it the whole time. She angrily glares at me and storms to her room with a plate of food. I dish up. No use in trying not to binge now. I feel compelled to eat the whole kitchen, and act accordingly. Ever since I got sick it takes no effort to throw up, so I'm not too worried. That is how I got back into this mode. I asked my mom earlier today if she would rather have a bulimic or anorexic daughter, and she said, "Well, bulimia is understandable." Of course. She needs a daughter who will eat everything put in front of her face yet be thin. The perfect daughter. I am so angry right now. Doesn't she understand? It hurts so much to stick your whole goddamned hand down your throat and be bent over on sharp rocks for up to half an hour like your worshiping some foreign god? No, of course not. That isn't her problem. I hate it. When I went to the doctors earlier they just did more tests. "Sorry, no life threatening illness detected. Yes, you have to stay on this earth. (Damnit) Sorry, just a bladder and kidney infection. We will run more tests though. Something just doesn't match up." So obviously I won't get to die. I am doomed to live, just like what Kim said; if I was going to die, I already would have. I shall have to live out this life, torturing everyone I touch. I have become such a terrible person. Such a bitch. I don't know what happened to me. I guess I shall have to start burning and cutting myself again. I figure a really good punishment would be to cut myself and then burn the cuts immediately after. I deserve that. That is what I am worthy of. Nothing more. I suppose that is all I have to vent. Sorry to sound like such a drag. Take care everyone. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know! *Dimstar (Kinda ironic that a bulimic is living on anti-nausea pills, isn't it?);) 11:21 p.m. - 2003-01-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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