But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.

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Rant

I'm fuzzy, but I'm concious. Still semi alert after 4 Ativan and the last two sleeping pills. Nothing changed.
Well, I do have a flat affect.
I can't sleep because these stupid shooting pains are running through my bladder.
I don't really want to sleep because then I have to get up.
I cried earlier. I lay in bed crying silently as my mom yelled something about ants in the kitchen, about how I need to move out since I'm just dying here, about what a burdon I am...
We has a discussion about if I died. She wants a funeral. I know she will regret the costs so I told her no.
Won't matter to me...
"But its for those you leave behind."
Fine, have a funeral.
Binge, purge. Fear is beyond what I feel when I start shoveling massive quantities of food in my mouth. Budget gourmet, leftover lasagna, bags of candy, cookies, cereal on milk....
I fear it won't come up. I often consume so much that I have to go to extreme measures...
Sock my stomach. Such in air. Drink more soda.
Then liters come up. Liter upon liter of vomit.
Disgusting.
And I have to do it in my room and wait until they've all gone to bed to dispose of it.
Another reason I'm not fond of weekends....
Someone asked how can my mom not say anything. She just says, "Oops" If I bring out a few bags of trash from my room. She doesn't realize how much food we have in this house. Today I realized we had over 15 boxes of brownie mix, 17 bags of cheese, probably 50 boxes of mac n' cheese, over 30 boxes of cereal, lines of tuna, jam, soup.... Every cupboard crammed full. Every empty space filled with food.
I feel it is my duty to eat it. I must keep it under control. Quantity control.
I should have never come home. Im going insane trying to keep this house sane.
I'm dying trying to keep this house under control.
I mention to my mom that my feet hurt. She yells, "Well so do mine."
I have neuropathy. Every problem I have she compares. If I mention I'm tired she snaps that she is as well.
Every little thing.
She compares weight, clothing sizes, amounts eaten...
Then tonight she mentioned she has osteopenia and is starting on Phosomax. I tried to explain how eating more calcium would help as well. She snapped, "How would you know?"
Ummm... gee. How come I get all these bone density tests done?
Fine. Just fine. I will shut up.
I shouldn't be angry. I need to be better. I need to take care of her.
I don't really want to live any more as it is.

3:07 AM - Monday, Aug. 29, 2005
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dying - living