Bound hands and feet, headed for distruction
self- imposed, self- regulared harm.
Blinded by projections, rays of light pretending to be the sun.
Runing steady further into the dark.
Bound hands and feet headed for demolition.
Your light-love broke through!
"I am the light of the world, he who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life."
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
I ve been on lj for 4 years suffered with an Ed for over six years. And have been miserable with 3 attempted suicides completly blinded by the illusion of 'perfection' masked as an eating disorder.
I am finally free!
My luvs you can also be free of this illusion. Am sure most of you have at some point heared of Christ Jesus's saving power. He really does LOVE you personally, and wants you to be free. All you have to do is take a step toward Him, by asking him to help-save you. (even if it's a little whisper in your heart).
I'm posting this because I have been completly changed by Him. And want everyone of you to know there is true freedom in Christ Jesus.
I love y'all!!!
"it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe."
1 Cor. 1:21
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
I dug up my moms old scale (which I'm sure is probably off a couple pounds) and weighed myself a couple of days ago. I'm not going to post what I saw, because I am humiliated and embarressed to an extent at which I haven't been for years. I remember gaining a huge amount of weight after I stopped the cocaine diet. I was 16/17 and I gained a MASSIVE amount of weight. I am the same weight I was then. I didn't realize that I'd gotten so big. I would ask my boyfriend if he'd noticed my weight gain, to which he assured me he hadn't. Lies. All lies. I can't trust anyone around me to be honest. I have no idea what my body looks like in reality, I distort the image into something strange, like a fun house mirror. I really do depend on other people to tell me if I've gotten big or small.
A part of me feels as though he lied to me so that I would keep getting bigger. So that the male attention would stop.
I'm as fat as the queen of the sea cows. He doesn't understand that I make a living off of my looks. That's all I have. I hate myself for letting it get to this point, but I also hate him for outright lying to me. A person can't not notice a 20 pound weight increase. That's the equivalent of two large babies that have been added onto my body.
God I said I wasn't ever going to go back to it, but I have to at this point.
Adderall every day. Spironolactone every day. Start going back to the gym. Purge everything that isn't high fiber&low fat/cal. Eat as little as possible. I need this weight off of me. NOW. Fuckfuckfuck. I'm freaking out. How am I supposed to make any fucking money as a webcam model if I look like a narwhal?!
Jesus christ. I'm freaking out.
- Current Mood: aggravated
I'm going back on my adderal, getting a new RX tomorrow (it's hard to get now that I only have one doctor who doesn't know about my heart condition), and while I do actually need it, there's some liability bullshit that's fucking my whole god damned life up. I found a pretty sweet ass denim body suit though - seriously, I found it, like at the bus stop in a bag marked 'free' - and since I live in arguably the best part of town I didn't feel skeezy taking it. thought it would be too small, finally tried it on, and while it was a bit snug, it zipped up. the only issue is that it's about 3 inches too short in length, so I'm bordering on camel toe in it. I'm going to try to find a way to alter it.
I saw Sean today. He begged to see me, and because I'm codependant I wanted to see him too. I forgive him too easily. Friday was his 30th birthday and he ended up drinking himself into a blackout and started saying some pretty horrible things to me, I needed to get some space so I went to the dance floor, got up on stage and danced like a mad woman. Woke up with some guys phone number written on my arm in black marker. I might be a fucking cow right now, but at least I still have dance floor confidence. Anyways, I tried to find him after the music stopped and he was nowhere to be found, his friends told me that he got thrown out and also that he got hit in the face a few times for making violent threats towards me.
My psychiatrist told me that Sean was like a rescue dog to me, that sometimes they can be re-trained, but most of the time it doesn't end up well. I have a rescue dog, Sasha, who I'm pretty afraid of tbh. My brother brought her home one day, and while he needs her, to me she's just a pitbull who has a habit of eating cats and attacking other dogs, I really don't like having her around. She might be sweet some times, but she has that switch that just makes her dangerous and violent. Just like Sean does.
So over the last few days I've not been moving much, and have been stuffing my face to deal with the pain. The last two days though I've been trying my damnedest to incorporate as much fiber as I can into my food, that and soup. According to weight watchers fiber is the key to making food not-so-bad. It kind of seems to be working. Well, at least one of my new favorite binge/boredom eating foods is chicken broth with broccoli, carrot and celery leaves. I'll probably just stick to eating that for a couple weeks to lose these ungodly pounds.
one of the better things about being so freakishly tall is that I need more calories to maintain a healthy weight than someone @ 5'5, so even going to 1000 cal/day is a 1500-1700 cal under-eat (based on daily activity).
- Current Location:Vancouver, Canada
- Current Mood: depressed
TeenyTwiggs7 on AIM
The binge is the ultimate act of self-loathing to me, stuffing my gullet with food that I know is essentially poison, as furiously and quickly as I possibly can. My last binge started as soon as I decided to go from tipsy to drunk. The plotting and planning, the shaking in my hands, the nervous sweat beading on my eyebrow as I downed my 5th tequila shooter. I hailed a cab, made small talk, passed by Vancouver General Hospital - a very familiar and unsettling sight - and told the cabby to drop me off at an intersection where I knew there was a McDonalds. I asked him to drop me off in the Alley, next to an apartment entrance where I said I would wait for my friends to buzz me up. I don't know why I lied, I was drunk, he was paid and tipped generously, but somehow I felt ashamed as if he knew I was just a junkie looking for a fix. I waited until he drove off then made my way into the McDonalds. It was rainy outside, windy, and already coming up on 1 am. I knew I should have just gone home, but the entire time I was in the cab I was thinking to myself "It's okay, you'll just throw it all up when you get home, it's okay. It's okay." Thank god no one was in there other than the staff and myself, because I knew I would be stumbling in there reeking of booze and placing an unbelievably large order for just one person. I had to make it look like it wasn't just for me, so that the bubbly blond 17 year old girl at the counter wouldn't judge me. I pulled out my cell phone and pretended to be reading it, so she would think I was ordering from a text message.
4 cheese burgers with extra pickles.
one medium fries
one large fries
Packets of mayonnaise on the side
"Could you please put those in three separate bags for me?"
Like it even mattered. She offered me a 4 piece chicken mcnugget box for one dollar extra, a special they were having. Why did she have to do that.
"Sure, as you've probably deduced I live with stoners, so it'll get eaten."
She laughed. Thank Christ that girl laughed and it was genuine too, so she bought it. She didn't think the order was just for me to eat in shame. I shoved the food in my backpack and ran out to hail another cab. I could have bussed home, but I needed to get there quick so that I would still be nauseated from all of the booze. It would help me to purge with more ease, or at least less violently attack my gag reflex. I got home and ate nearly everything. I was half a cheese burger away from the finish line when my head started to spin. three hours later I woke up still drunk and halfway to a massive hangover, with an intense pain in my stomach and realized that I had passed out before I had the chance to get everything up. Anxiety ran through me. Heavy waves of shame and disgusted washed over my entire body. It was too late to do anything about it.
I didn't get out of bed for two days.
I drank, ate very little, and threw up a mostly liquid stomach contents for the next couple of days after that. Yesterday's hangover was familiar. The early morning purge of bile was familiar. The vodka smell that filled the bathroom was anything but comforting. I was done. Yesterday was day one. Today was day two. I had two successful days without binging or purging, or without purging minus the binge. I ate healthily. I ate 3 meals. I had 2 snacks. I rinsed and repeated today. Only I ate less today. Back into my comfortable safe routine.
Saw my psychiatrist today and realized that the last two weeks of drinking, binging and purging have arisen as a result of my break up with Sean. Our relationship was so negative and dramatic that it kept me distracted from how much I hate myself. I hated him so much that I didn't have time to think about just how much I hate who I am.
I'm not drinking for a month, as I said before (but now am acting on), eating a healthier consistent diet, and then gradually reducing the calories. It feels so much safer to get even a small amount of distance from the bulimia monster.
270 - 1 liter of chicken noodle soup
100 - ginger ale
138 - 2 oz vodka
Total - 738
Not too shabby. would have been 600 had I refrained from drinking.
I guess I forgot how many calories are in alcohol. I've been drinking so much lately, my pants aren't fitting the way they normally do, and it's all coming together. I drink way too much. I guess I figure that if I've been working for 6-7 hours (I'm busting my ass serving and bartending) that I've burned at least 350 calories off, so why not have a few shots! WRONG. I usually have about 6 double vodka diet cokes, and am generally bought 2 shots of tequila every shift.
That's 968 calories. I consume more calories in the amount that I drink than I do in what I eat. That's sad.
And the Jager shots I've been doing lately don't help a pinch. I'm over consuming in alcohol, bloated from the alcohol and now my spandex yoga pants don't even fit properly. I'm going to stop drinking for a month. I just did the math and if I did quit boozing it up for 4 weeks, I would spare myself close to 10,000 calories. That's an absurd amount.
- Current Mood: surprised
i dont know what to do...what should i do?any ideas?
- Current Mood:fat
Started going back to the gym though, I'm forcing myself to go three times a week.
I'm a lazy anoretic. I'd only ever been an over exerciser for a brief period in my life, and god damn, I was probably just as muscular and small as madonna. It wasn't attractive. Like I said, I'm lazy as hell, I just don't eat when I want to lose weight - and that seems to work just fine. The only real issue I have with my non-active self is that I'm not nearly as much of a badass as I once was. I used to do a LOT of kickboxing and fighting lessons and all that fun stuff, and I was AMAZING at it. but now? If I was ever in a position where I needed to defend myself, I'm very much NOT confident in my chances. I mean, I still have the bark and can basically just counsel people out of fighting, but if some INSANE person accosted me? Nope. Don't really think I'd do too well.
I want to get back into fighting form though. Pretty badly. I feel like a weakling.
Well, gotta go lather on the tan in a can now. Again, I'm Canadian, we're all ghostly pale. Well, most of us.
- Current Location:Vancouver
- Current Mood: cold