But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Senseless Really I am so damn tired of this. I swore that I wasn't going to binge. I didn't all day. Then, at around 10:00pm, I started to eat, and eat and eat... Before I knew it I had consumed 14 cupcakes, three pop-tarts, five yogurts, two waffles, a banana, candy bar, shake, omelette, cup of cereal with peanut butter, and two pudding cups. I have made three attempts at throwing up but nothing wants to come up. It just wants to churn in my gut, making me bloated, nauseated, and unhappy. I am also out of laxatives which means I can't go to the bathroom. Great. I feel my kidney infection coming back. My back and stomach are starting to hurt. I can tell that my ketones are back in my blood stream because I smell a bit fruity. I remember when I was in the hospital Dr.Hientz said he could tell I was in DKA because I smelled fruity. At least I am taking some of my insulin. I have gotten better about taking it when I eat, but it is still a struggle when I binge. If I hadn't gained ten pounds the last time I binged and took my insulin I wouldn't be so reluctant. I am so tired lately. I missed five phone calls today that I wanted to catch because I was in a dead sleep until 1:30 in the afternoon. I would have liked to sleep all day, but my mom woke me up. She is so worried. I feel awful for putting her through this. I can't believe those bastard doctors told her that yes I was slowly dying and they were sending me home to die. Now she is very worried. At least she no longer expects me to go to school. In a way I do miss it, yet I would never show my face. I am too ugly. My hair is thin, oily, and still falling out, my lips are chapped and have sores from a vitamin deficiency, my teeth have yellowed, and, I swear, you can tell that I am bulimic just by looking at me. I am nervous and openly as obsessed with food as they come. I hope that my doctor puts me on that heart medication. No one wants to deal with me. Stanford told me to talk to my pediatrician about it because he would be able to regulate it better, my pediatrician told me to talk to Stanford about it because they are more specialized in my "disorders" So am I going to have to deal with this annoying grip on my chest that exhausts and pains me until the day I die? I hope not. Right now I just finished my 27th can of Diet Coke. My blood sugar is probably sky high. Who the hell cares anymore? I am not marching behind that pool in the freezing rain and kneeling in the mudd one more time with three fingers down my throat. It just isn't working. I am screwed. Then again, who isn't? 1:07 a.m. - 2003-02-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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