But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.
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I shouldn't bother
I didn't do it yesterday. I started, eating a protein bar, taking my Novalog... And suddenly I felt so exhausted I could only sleep after throwing a load of laundry into the washer. Not many hours later I awoke, crazed like a wild animal and stumbled into the kitchen.
"Food, food, there has to be something sweet." I found the last cookies hidden in the back of the bottom shelf of the cabinet. Cookies I don't even like. I ate half the bag before falling into a sugar intoxicated sleep.
Sugars over 600 all through the day...
I hate this. I felt too weak to move. I'm ruining everything. I need to have energy. There is only a week's time and I'm spoiling everything by sleeping twenty hours a day. I can't possibly be this lazy. I wake up and tell myself I don't have an eating disorder, that I will do well, that this isn't me. That yesterday was a nightmare.
Again today. I'm trying to at least eat small amounts and take my insulin. I started with an egg beater vegetable omelette and half cup of some offbrand of Carb Countdown in my coffee. I took loads of insulin to bring my sugars down and now I'm sweating profusely. I should give up. Up down, up down.... Slowly spiraling down....
I told my mom if I can't change something in two months then I will kill myself. I told this to her while coming off my meds and thus being very depressed but the more I think about it the more it makes sense. Why keep a body living when the soul is already dead? She looked at me and began talking about a garage sale she attended. Its really okay with them. They are tired of seeing me fight as well. And I am so exhausted from it all I don't know how to handle it.
No one eats two cups of sour cream and barfs them plain. No one but me. I am fat and I feel as if I'm starving. My weight is fine. I need to get a fucking life.
Then why do I feel so sick? Because I'm lazy. I could do more. I should have a job. I should be running and swimming daily. I shouldn't be living back here. I should be supporting myself.
The reason I don't go see my grandparents is because I know I've failed them. I was supposed to go to medical school. That will never happen. They expected the best out of me.
But I stopped being the best student so long ago.
And now I've failed them just like everyone else. I can't even answer my phone. I'm too frightened of the voice on the other end, too afriad a soul might care.
And I'm too soul less to answer.
10:25 AM - Tuesday, Jul. 12, 2005
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dying - living
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