Fight Until You Can't

But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.

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Confused

I went shopping for clothes and went a bit crazy. "I might need this in treatment. I might want this in treatment..."
You know the deal. Something that won't make me look "fat."
"Come on Gwen, lets go!" begged my mother. But what if I missed something? We still had to go to the grocery store for sodas.
And then... It was all on sale. Their pre-cooked dinners. My mom grabbed a ton. My mind began whirling and the whole way home I could only think about those dinners. About the cookies.
Food. Food. What was I to eat?
As soon as the groceries were away I turned on the news. I couldn't believe it. Babies were being pushed in shopping carts and laundry baskets along freeways by their mothers to escape the flood! As I watched I kept eating, not paying attention. I yelled to my mom to watch and we agreed to donate clothes.
But...
I had eaten four large cookies, 15 shortbread cookies, one angelfood cake bar, 20 chicken wings, four manicottis, and one cup lasagna. I fell asleep shortly after.
I awake. Its 1:00am. I am sick. I drink two liters of soda though I feel ready to explode.
I grab the bucket in my room. I've got to barf. I can feel the sticky glucoses from a sugar beyond belief, beyond possibility taking over my body.
Yet I am so full I can't get th food out...
So I sock my stomach and jam my hand down my throat as far as I can. I feel the soars on my mouth rip open again. I have to get this out. I will die if I don't get this out....
The acid burns up and down. Bitter acid is all I can taste. Vomit spews everywhere.
I want to go to Rogers but I want to be around my friends. And I don't want to wait for insurance approval.
I haven't heard the best things about Rader. I don't know anything about their food. I heard you can't have sweets.
Worst of all, both programs don't allow you soda. Funny, I'm more addicted to soda than I was cigarettes. And the irony? No gum but you can smoke at both programs.
I called Rader today to say I would go to their program. Then I woke up tonight not wanting to. I think I'm scared. I want familiarity. I've been to Rogers. I know the staff...
Whatever. Whomever can get me in the soonest is where I'm going.
But then... I don't want to be away from those who truly love me. And by that I don't mean my mother. I have a feeling she secretly wants me dead, though she swears she doesn't.
Random fact: Diabetic urine will dissolve toilet paper if left in the toilet in two hours. Makes me wonder what its doing to my insides.... No wonder I can't think straight.
I am so grateful to all of you. Without you I wouldn't still be here.
Edited to say: I decided to start packing for treatment while I have a bit of energy and before I change my mind. Guess who decided he wants to go with me? Mr. Kitty! I pulled him out of my duffel bag three times but he insisted on crawling back in. Here he is!