Today was a good day. I didn't cut. I didn't binge, purge, or starve. It was a good day. And yet I hated today. I hated today because I didn't cut. I didn't binge, purge, or starve. Now I feel full, fat, and disgusting. I feel like I've got the worries, and struggles of the day built up inside me. I didn't have much chance to "relieve" myself in any way today. I was with people all day. I had lunch with TJ, a guy I'm sort of dating. Then I went back home and spent the rest of the evening with family. And see the thing is, even though in some people's eyes today would be an accomplishment, in my eyes, today was a complete failure. Nothing was accomplished today. I feel like it was senseless to have woken up this morning. And right now my stomach hurts so bad that I feel like thrusting a knife into it. It's been hours since I've eaten and still it's just miserable. I already know that I can get through a day without throwing my guts up, but I don't want to. If it didn't hurt so bad then maybe it would be different but it does.
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When I first began binging and purging I thought I would do it only until I lost a few pounds. People had started to notice that I wasn't ever eating so I figured, hey, I'll do this until I get down to 110 pounds. I was 16. I was 16 years old and weighed 120 pounds. I felt at 5 feet tall that was way too overweight for me. I knew exactly what anorexia and bulimia were and I thought that I would be careful. I thought that the only reason girls with those diseases got them was because they were too weak and couldn't handle it. Boy, was I wrong! It didn't take but only a few days of doing it to become hooked. I didn't even realize I was in it for the long hall until a couple of weeks later when I tried to eat "normally" and keep it down, and I couldn't do it. At first I felt guilty for eating so much when I was doing so well on my wonderful new diet, then my stomach began to really ache. It hurt so much that I locked myself in the bathroom and didn't come out for about two hours. I wanted to make sure there was nothing left to make me miserable.
So as time went by, purging just became a part of my everyday routine. I did it for about 6 months, then one day a girl I knew was sent away. Her parents found out that she had bulimia, but was using laxatives instead of throwing up. And I knew that if my mom found out she would probably do the same, she would send me away. So as bad as it hurt, I sucked it up and dealt with the pain and discomfort. It was then that I found the knife....
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