The binging must stop.
It must.
I am going crazy.
Things will get better soon, right?

4 months with D.
I feel I must be dreaming.
He is so wonderful.
I do not deserve this at all.
Perhaps I was a better person in a past life?

"I wish you wouldn't be so worried about your secret," he says to me.
(I have promised to be 100% honest with him about everything.  Except for one thing which I cannot tell him.  The ED and all related issues, obviously.)
"What do you mean?"
 "Nothing about you thus far justifies you calling yourself a monster.  I don't imagine there will be anything that could in the future either."

I have tried to warn him.
I am not what he thinks.
I am not a good person.
I am a monster.

What normal person is afraid of food?
What kind of person cannot tell when they are hungry or full?
Who eats past the point of satiation, until they are sick and yet still feels empty?
Who wishes for the ability to vomit?
Who wishes to never eat again?
Who imagines blades and blood when they are upset?  (Note that I am not and never will be a cutter.  Sometimes I wish I could be, though.  A clean way of punishment is appealing.)
Who downs laxatives like candy, taking far more than the recommended dose?
Who has struggled in secret for 8 FUCKING YEARS and has nothing to show for it?

I look in the mirror and all I can see is monstrosity.
Huge and grotesque.
I have no redeeming features or qualities.
Outside or in.

I wonder, sometimes, if I will ever be able to tell him.
To show him this blog.
To let him in on my innermost secret.
One so terrible and so well-hidden that no one else knows.
Somehow I think that would be a very bad idea.

He is a psychology major.
Would he understand?
I doubt it.
The psych classes here do not focus on ED.
It is an afterthought in most of the curricula.
In fact, I think the only class that even touched on the subject in more detail than a paragraph was Abnormal Psychology.
How fitting.

Even then, I do not think anyone can really understand the mess of disorder unless they have experienced it firsthand.

He tells me stories of his adolescent growth spurt.
Standing in the kitchen, eating food from the freezer.
Too hungry to wait for it to defrost.

I wonder how shocked (and disgusted) he'd be if he knew how much I can eat.
I don't even have puberty or hunger as an excuse.

If I tell him, I will lose him.
Maybe not immediately (though I would not blame him if he ran)...
But eventually.
Relationships cannot stand the strain of disorder.
Especially long-distance ones.

I feel guilty hiding this.
Lying to him constantly.
But it is better this way.

i don't want to be disordered anymore  (did i ever?  i don't think so)
how did i get here?  how can i get out?

i don't want to hate myself

i don't want to doubt D.

i just want to be normal.

and i want him to love me and only me and always me.
(even though that is a selfish wish and i know he can make no promises and i should not either because i am only going to leave in july.)

i wish i could stop binging

i'm sick of being so fucked-up

someone help me; i obviously cannot control myself

grad school rejection number 2.

i am upset over this one.  it was tied for my first choice.

why did i apply to all top-tier schools?

i should know by now that i am not good enough.

Update:  I am a huge cow.

I am the size of those inflatable cows you see outside Chick-Fil-A on advertisements.  Unfortunately not helium-filled, however.

If I were, I'd be lighter.

Also I have a test today.  For which I  have not really studied.

Ugh.

Today I feel better.  :)

In fact, I feel pretty happy.  Which is kind of weird, because today I have eaten too much and been too unproductive.  Ah well.  Tomorrow is a new day.

In exactly 2 weeks and 1 day, I will be on a plane to England.  Excited much?  (YES)  You heard (read) me correctly--I get to spend all of my spring break touring England and Wales in search of the Holy Grail.  Plus a whole free day in London with no scheduled scholastic activities.  I can't wait!

panic
too much work and too little time
i cannot do this
i want to escape
i want to hide where no one can find me
i want to make a blanket cave and curl up and sleep
i want the outside world to vanish
the duties and deadlines and responsibilities to fade away
twisting and dissipating like the smoke off a prisoner's last cigarette
i want to hurt
i want to vomit until i am no more
i want to disappear
i want to become non-existent
as though i never was and never will be
i want to be only the faintest memory in the collective human conscious
the instinct that says run
run away now

i want to die