3/28/24

i missed yesterday's entry.

there wasn't much of a reason for it -- i was just too tired and didn't feel like writing.

food restriction has been okay. i ate little yesterday and purged it. i had to eat more today and was unable to purge it (due to circumstance). but i guess it doesn't really matter since it's no longer a "mark against progress". i considered just saying "fuck it" and let myself eat more, but i didn't do it, because there wouldn't be a point to that either. if i am forced to eat, so be it. but within my choice, i'd rather not, i'd rather experience the ache of hunger, i'd rather be left void and unsatisfied. i wonder if this is a more convincing motivation for me to starve. i had been coming at it with a drive to lose weight and to work to a certain goal weight. perhaps it was ineffective because it is not something that truly mattered to me. it was just an arbitrary goal to fulfil a purpose that was underdeveloped.

the purpose i wanted to establish was a sense of accomplishment in my life, but eventually i realized that a "sense of accomplishment in my life" is not something that matters to me or could be even attainable. i think i was trying to convince myself to care wholeheartedly about something, but it wasn't particularly successful. i suppose what i do return to time and time again is the comfort of self-destruction. i have never strayed from that trajectory and it has always been a reliable one. with my earlier motivations i was trying to find a silver lining somewhere that doesn't really bode well with my nature, or at least, what comes easiest. i was making things much too complicated. perhaps i'll find starving myself to be easier if it is in service of simply being a detriment to myself. i won't be plaguing myself with shame and guilt if i do eat/am forced to eat. it doesn't really matter much. i am not losing anything. it's just that i think it is best for me to starve. so i shall choose that option when it is presented. it may seem pointless to purge with this mentality, but in my mind, it is an unpleasant, and painstaking act, so it does entail a level of misery that i'll keep just for the sake of it. i doubt that this makes much sense to anyone -- and probably seems utterly meaningless -- but this is how i will be doing things.

i am considering if i should stop taking my medications. i hadn't thought about it much before. my excuse then was that i didn't want to become so depressed that i would no longer care about my weight loss goal. that is not as much of a factor. the biggest barrier against it now is that i would undoubtably undergo severe withdrawal symptoms. i have in the past with psychiatric medications and it would be worse now, considering i would be going cold turkey off of five different medications. what makes it worse is that i would have to hide that i am experiencing withdrawal. i live with my family and could not act suspiciously. i'd have to engage with daily tasks as normal and attend school as normal, which would be hard to do if i have the equivalent of debilitating migraine for days. it could be possible that it could be worse than that, but i think to anticipate that would be too paranoid. another factor is that i am not in charge of my medications -- my parents are. i am not allowed direct access to them, so they give them to me by hand. they don't make me take them in front of them necessarily, but i'd have to at least give the illusion i had taken them at some point. i think i could circumnavigate this though without too much difficulty. maybe i'll try missing doses and see how the withdrawals feel and whether i can wave it away.

the reason i wish to do this is because i want to get worse. i don't know how else to put it. i think that if i let my mental state worsen, i'll be more likely to go through with things that i have been planning but have been hesitant to do. there's a possibility that stopping my medications won't change me at all, and it may be proven that my medications never had much of an effect on me to begin with. but i would guess it probably does effect me in some way. additionally, i have mentioned this before, but i am being forced to do this "transcranial magnetic stimulation" thing, and perhaps this is a petty manner of rebelling against that by resisting treatment in an undetectable way. i am unsure of when i should start attempting this -- i could start immediately or wait a few days. my hesitation is about withdrawal. i would not appreciate being deeply unwell and have to go about as usual. but i'll have to make a decision sooner rather than later.

there is more i could go on about. yesterday was dreadful because i had therapy, which is a drain and a waste of time. but it likely doesn't matter much to recount my gripes with it. so, i'll leave it out. this entry is already quite exhaustive.

to anyone who reads this, i wish you a good day.

3/26/24

today was uneventful.

one of my classes were canceled which i suppose is nice. i am not particularly fond of my tuesday-thursday classes -- they are too long, and regardless of how interesting the subject is, i find myself bemoaning being there.

i restricted again, probably ate around 200-300 calories, and was able to purge some of it.

a new chapter of chainsaw man came out, which i keep up with regularly, and that was enjoyable. as you can see, my profile is of yoshida, a character from that franchise. chainsaw man is my current hyperfixation -- it is what most of my day-to-day thoughts consist of. the chapter, similarly to the past two, was humorous in nature. it twisted expectation with what was assumed to lead into a fight but actually led to a truce instead. there were many little details that greatly amused me, such as: asa mitaka publishing her poetry, katana man either being a fan of her (or poetry in general), and confirmation that the nail fiend is gnc (possibly non-binary). although, i technically spoiled this chapter, it is not so significant. if you are reading this and you enjoy anime/manga, i would highly recommend picking up the series with the first season and then read the manga. it's an action-packed, yet hilariously absurd story that actually has real heart beneath it, that explores trauma, parasocial relationships, and intimacy between people, and much, much more.

that is all i can say for tangible things that occurred and that i did. the thoughts i had today -- and i apologize for the tonal departure -- was over confusion concerning the future. for a long while, i have been considering suicide. as of late, i find myself pushing it off for a later time, and avoiding it. i am not necessarily avoiding it mentally, since it crosses my mind a lot. all the time i am bombarded with intrusive images over dying, and it fills me with dread. but at the same time, i am evading it. i think that i am afraid. i am afraid of succeeding. i am afraid of failing (again).

there would be a lot of consequences to attempting and surviving. if you do back out or remain physically unharmed, then you can easily hide the attempt and no one will know about it. but if you do cause a significant amount of harm, that cannot be hidden, someone will find you and take you to a hospital, after you are deemed physically well, you will be institutionalized. i have been through this process multiple times. i would not be happy to do that again. it is also extremely financially burdensome to my family who will also have to witness me in this state again. i also believe my intentions this time around is an all-or-nothing type of deal. therefore, i do not think i could mentally handle failure again. the method that i am considering, too, is obtrusive, and is more bold than past attempts, which would complicate things further if failure happens.

i am still scared to die. i hate to admit that but it's true. i understand also that it would make the people i care about miserable. that's the reasoning for my fear of succeding.

i briefly mentioned in my prior post that i think i am trying to actively depress myself further until i can no longer resist these thoughts. that is what my path will likely lead to, so i think i will eventually be forced out of my crossroads.

that is all that i have to say for today. i wish all who read this a good day.

3/25/24

the purpose of this blog will be re-shaped.

i have been absent in the last month, mostly due to not restricting my food intake. the entire purpose was to chronicle my progress toward my weight loss goal. without that, there ceases to be a need to write. this blog was originally an ed account paired with my daily life/thoughts. i intend to shift this blog to the reverse -- it'll be entries of my daily life/thoughts that will brush on my ed at times.

although, i have forgone food restriction in the past few weeks, i am resuming it now. i no longer care about reaching a certain weight, or weight loss in general. it is more of a potential side effect of starving myself. i realized there was no real reason to be preoccupied with this goal. i do not have body dysmorphia and i think i was chasing too far after something that may be unachievable. i thought that this goal would give me a sense of purpose, but i don't think anything could give me legitimate purpose. however, the reason i still wish to do this, is more for self-harm, self-punishment reasonings. it also puts me in a certain state of mind i would prefer to be in. it makes me more rigid in my convictions. my motivation behind this is probably to drive myself into being miserable enough to die.

as i stated before, this will be more of a generalized vent account rather than specifically an ed one. i will tag the posts that are on that subject appropriately, but will remove them if it goes unmentioned.

i know this was brief, but this is all i have to say on this subject. to those who read this, i wish you a good day.

2/28/24

i have been so depressed.

i have not made an entry in four days, because i was binging throughout them. this may sound strange, but i'm not even that upset about it. i felt so empty that i said "fuck it" to myself and ate whatever i wanted, just to fulfill the emptiness within me. doubts began to bud in my mind. on saturday, i kept questioning my goal -- the purpose of it, my motivations for it, and whether it was reasonable. my suicidal ideation became very high and i contemplated just going for it. i find that i do not understand what makes me wish to be "at ease" with my death, or that i should accomplish something before i die, or make something of my suffering. i can't say there is a reason for any of this. therefore, what reason is there to not die now? i have stated before that i am scared that my goal is nothing more than an excuse to avoid dying. i worry that this is the case more and more.

on a practical level, it is very unlikely i will succeed in my goal -- to the deepest extent i have desired -- for multiple reasons. it would take a long time, and for it to work i'd have to find ways to restrict even further, which would be impossible in my current circumstances. and to achieve the opportunity for that freedom to fully restrict -- again, it would be a long time -- i would have to successfully convince the people around me i can live independently. the biggest reason, though, that my goal has a small chance of success, is because i doubt that i can last that long without trying to end it all, or generally avoid become so depressed i no longer have the drive to accomplish my goal. i do not believe i have said this before but a concern i had was that i knew that to accomplish my goal i had to be depressed --depressed enough that i would be willing to consistently starve myself. however, if i became too depressed, i would start to not give a shit about the goal, either becoming preoccupied with death or having no will to fight against my instincts to eat. this may be what is happening. i've come to the conclusion is that i should wait. wait for a while to see how my feelings and thoughts evolve over this topic. it is possible that i am avoiding death again, but i'm too attached to my goal to throw it away entirely. i will continue to restrict with the best of my abilities throughout march. if i find that it is over for me, and that my goal is useless, i'll begin to make preparations for my death.

i had therapy today. to say it "went bad" would be an understatement. over the weekend i had a conversation with my mom, and i began to lie about my mental state, saying that i think i've improved and my medications might be working well for me. i sprinkled in that i thought interventional psychiatry might be unnecessary for me. i managed to convince my mom it should be something that we wait for and see whether or not it is needed. i was happy that i was able to do this. however, life seems to throw a wrench into my plans, because my therapist explicitly told me that if i do not go through with interventional psychiatry, they will drop me. this is problematic for me, as it would deeply alarm my family if my therapist dropped me and informed them that i am "too bad" for them to ethically continue as my therapist. my therapist also threatened to drop me, if i revoked my release of information to my parents. they told me they will call my mom and inform her that they are concerned about my well-being and that i should absolutely go through with interventional psychiatry. essentially, my therapist is twisting my arm to receive treatment that i do not want -- leveraging that i need to comply with my parents to force me into it. i cannot let my parents know that i have completely given up and do not want help, that'll make my situation much worse. i can't be stopped or interfered with if i am flying under the radar. if they are aware of my actual state, they'll never trust me again, they'll revoke any freedom i have, and who knows what they'll force me into. the worst case scenario is they'd get me to be hospitalized again. what could i even say to them?-- "i'm going to starve myself and eventually kill myself, whether you like it or not, so just stand by and let me do that"? they'll never accept that shit. if i don't immediately get out of it by literally dying, then it'll be horrible for me.

i'm not necessarily mad at my therapist. i understand -- it's for my "own good". but it is so frustrating and puts me in the worst position. i am deeply unhappy knowing that my therapist will tell my mom that they think i am severely unwell. she'll know that i have been lying to her. she'll be upset and bombard me with questions and concerns. i don't even know what i'll say to that. i am honestly so stupid and i am genuinely angry at myself. i think i have made a grave mistake. my plan on how to conduct my behavior with my therapist was to be realistic -- have my actions and what i say seem reasonable that align with my past behavior, and not try to suspiciously be magically better, all the while omitting crucial details about what i am actually thinking/feeling. it's like a jumble of honesty and dishonesty, a lot of what i say are half-truths, or even truthful, but i am omitting many details, but also straight-up lying when needed. this has backfired on me, because i seem too similar to what i was like, and if i don't make myself look better at all, it reflects badly and makes my therapist want to make drastic changes to fix the plateau in my progress. i am kicking myself so hard for this. i shouldn't have been so paranoid that i would appear as fake. it is also extremely upsetting because i have no fucking control over my life. 3/4ths of everything i do is to appease others, to play a character to others, and i am somehow under the thumb of the people around me. i feel taken advantage of too, because my therapist is legitimately manipulating me and threatening me into doing what they want, regardless if it is for a "good reason". to be honest, i was blindsided by this, because i didn't expect for my therapist to do something like this to me.

so, yes, the past few days have been excruciatingly stressful. let's not forget that it is midterm week and i am swamped with schoolwork that i am obligated to do! and to top it all off, i got into a car accident as well. the most inconvenient, horribly timed incident. the second i got home i started bashing my head against the wall (ha-ha). before i end this entry, though, i will say that today's restriction resumed seamlessly. i ate little and was able to purge it. can't say it makes up at all for the past few days. i will also be unable to restrict soon because i will be on a trip with my family, so my progress is going down the drain.

to finally end this... to address those who read this, i hope you are having a better time than me.

2/23/24

today's restriction was okay.

i had to eat a snack since my friend was over, but i also ate a small amount for dinner, so it was definitely ate less than yesterday. even when you consider that i only had one meal the other day; it's just today it was smaller and less calories.

i've noticed that more and more recently i can tell that my best friend has been concerned about me -- not in the way of directly confronted me or pausing to have a heart-to-heart, but always encouraging me to talk to others, that i should ask for help, and taking my dark jokes more seriously. it's always in a casual or light way. it sticks out to me regardless. these types of comments haven't always existed, or at least been this frequent. i think for a while we openly exchanged dark jokes about our mental health or traumas, and we still do this, but it is to a lesser extent and sometimes my friend may respond with, "nah, man, you can't think like that", when in the past, they definitely would have laughed with me. not directly, but it indirectly rebukes what i say, and they are pushing against it. i think it is because over time they've realized what i joke about aren't just thoughts sometimes, they are things i will legitimately do. suicide jokes aren't as funny when the person making them is actively suicidal and has almost died from attempts. so i do understand why my jokes aren't so tasteful anymore. i am saying all of this to recognize a shift i've noticed.

today, i complained about being forced to undergo interventional psychiatry, and i said that i don't like it because, "it'll force me to change", in a goofy, exaggerated voice. again, i said this in a joking manner, but it is something i legitimately feel. and i think my best friend understood that. their response was essentially: "i am not trying to offend you, but it is like you aren't trying. i am not saying that to demean you or that you are lazy. it's that you are so used to be miserable and change is foreign and unknown, so you don't want it". of course, i completely agree with this sentiment, it is undeniably correct. i am well aware of this. i replied, laughingly, that i knew that and it was factually correct. i don't know. it's weird. i never try to meaningfully help myself or change. even though, i have so many opportunities and everyone can see that. a thought that came to mind from this is that i know it is a fair possibility i will die soon. if that happens, they'll be left alone, and it would be a horrible thing to do to them. i know that.

something that is worrying me is that i won't be able to follow through with my goal. in the sense, it'll be like last fall, when it gets too hard to continue restricting, i go back to eating normally. and because there is such a strong void in my life that was previously filled by my goal, it led me to attempt. i am scared that again, i'll give up and i'll go to die, whether or not it will be successful is unknown. i'd much rather die knowing i accomplished something from my goal, then dying because i couldn't move forward. but that may just be the fate for me.

i apologize for ending on a somber note. to all who read this, i wish you a good day.

2/22/24

the worst aspect of an eating disorder is binging.

it is excruciatingly painful for many reasons. it is humiliating -- you label yourself around as a person with a restrictive eating disorder, and yet... does eating like you've never heard of restraint look like anorexia to you? that is what i did after all. i have invested so much time into it restriction, only for me to throw it all away. it feels like allowing yourself to eat would be vindicating, finally relieving yourself of the pressure to starve and relax into your natural instincts. but that is not how it is. i am sad and powerless. i am not happy; in fact, all that happened was that it left me curled-up in a ball in my bed, in extreme pain from eating much more than i am used to, wishing i was dead. this happened yesterday. i thought to myself that there is little point to any of this. i cannot die until i reach my goal, and i cannot reach my goal if i binge all the time. so i need to resist binging as much as i can. it frightens me that i know this will occur again. i need so desperately to reel it in. i need this to work, and i am so tired of this shit.

i won't ramble for too long, because i am upset and feeling slightly sick. today's restriction wasn't even the best. i am not purging because i decided to take a break, so it'll be more effective and my gag reflex won't disappear. but i was made to eat a calorie dense meal, which is irritating, especially since i had just binged and i couldn't purge it. at least, that is all i ate.

anyway, i wish to all who read this they their day is better than mine.

2/20/24

i am so irritated.

as of late, that is the most consistent, and strongest emotion i feel. i am just... upset, drained, and pissed. my life is like a non-stop performance. i am obligated to do so many things to shield myself from suspicion -- i have so many things i have to pretend to care about. i was livid when i realized how big my workload for school is in the next two days. i do not care about school; all i do is go there to play the role of a good student, and use it to avoid eating breakfast and lunch. i was so irate about this, i almost wanted to cry. but in all likelihood, i would not be able to do so. it is a herculean task for me to cry.

i do not care about idle conversations. do not ask me about my day, do not make pointless comments, do not pester me. i want people to leave me alone. i don't want people to care, i don't want people to help, i don't want people to extend kindness toward me. i have no intentions of being a "better person", so everyone should just give up, because i sure have. it is increasingly frustrating to deal with other people. i can't put into words how tired i am of everything.

another thing that saddens me, is that i can tell my gag reflex is weakening. therefore, i thought i should give it a break for 2-3 days. this is so... lovely. an additional concern is that i will be on spring break soon. we will be traveling somewhere briefly, which makes it certain i will not be able to restrict. i am completely unenthused. even then, it will be harder to restrict too, if my parents are hanging around at home during the week. on days that i am cornered, i won't post anything, it'll just be me agonizing the whole time. i suppose i am doing that anyway these days.

i have become more conscious about my body, and pangs of frustration that i do not feel "skinny" enough. i have restricted before, and yet, i didn't feel this experience very strongly. i am hyper-aware of my body these days. i find myself body-checking, and re-adjusting my position of how i sit to look more favorable. i look in the mirror and there is a level of disgust. i'm just not sick enough. it doesn't matter if i am underweight. i look healthy. it is starting to really bother me. i'm so impatient. it scares me to think i have to continue this for months on end. in all honesty, it is hard to pull myself through all of that when my will to live is dissolving into air. it is more difficult to cope with living when i've given up on everything except my goal. i have literally attempted in the past, and i still legitimately had a stronger desire to live in those periods of my life. on some level, those attempts were more of an expression of pain, than a true desire for death (it was still there, just not as strong as the former). i think i am desiring death itself more and more.

that's all i have to say for today. to all who read this, i wish you a good day.

2/19/24

i had to go out to dinner today.

eating out is scary for me -- things tend to be higher calorie than home-cooked meals. it is also harder to purge in these situations; sometimes i can get away with it, or be able to once i get home. although, this doesn't always work, and today was like that. i attempted to when i arrived at home, but it was unsuccessful. this is irritating. i didn't eat an extreme amount, though, and restrained from eating more than necessary. usually -- i hate this, mind you -- i do crave food. today, however, i felt extremely annoyed at the idea of eating and didn't want to. i mean, i mentally don't want to eat, but my body does. it didn't entirely feel that way today.

my younger brother complained that he didn't eat breakfast or lunch. this made me angry -- because apparently only i can not eat all day -- and so i snapped at him for not eating, and then began to question him. he did admit that he had eaten today, just not proper meals. this made me feel a little better. i do find that when people say, "oh, i haven't eaten all day", they are being dishonest and have eaten snacks here and there. it still irks me, nevertheless, even when i know they were lying or being hyperbolic. my annoyance continued, because it is grating to be misgendered every day by my family. and, yes, they are aware that i am trans. all in all, it was a tiresome time. an irrelevant aside, is something else that has been getting under my skin, that being my parents constantly pestering me about my psychiatric medications. things such as, "have you taken them yet"; "don't forget to take them"; "you need to take them"; "i'm scared you'll get withdraws"; "just checking, are you sure you took them". it is an endless barrage. it might seem crazy what i'm about to say... these medications do not do very much to me. i am taking so many medications now, and i've taken many in the past, so why would these be any different? while i can't prove beyond a shadow of a doubt they do nothing at all, that there is a chance i could possibly get worse without them -- i am still very much mentally ill. it's all so bothersome. it makes me exhausted to constantly perform "getting better" and do all these useless things that do nothing, and i have zero interest in them. i apologize for complaining so much in this entry, but i am getting increasingly frustrated as of late.

i looked in the mirror and had the thought, "the current weight of my body is likely considered the most attractive weight for me to be". can't wait to ruin it by starving myself into the body of a sickly, emaciated victorian child (lol)! i wonder how common it is for someone with ana to not care about losing weight for the sake of appearance. sometimes i feel alienated from the ed community, as i don't relate to many experiences. i often hear people try to encourage others by saying how people will be jealous of you for your body, or that you should starve so your boyfriend will think you are beautiful. it is quite common that eds are spoken of as body-image issues. that does not apply to me at all. for me, it is all about control, to give myself a purpose/passion, and self-punishment, i suppose. i would be distressed at gaining weight, not necessarily because i would fear becoming societally unattractive, but because that does not align with my goals. i wonder if i would even be diagnosed with ana, regardless of how much i lose weight -- maybe i'd just be labelled with ednos. i guess, though, that i don't have to meet every criteria for ana to be diagnosed. it is irrelevant though, i would never want to be in a position of being diagnosed since i don't want help (lmao).

i think this is all i have to say for today. to all who read this, i wish you a good day.

2/18/24

today's restriction went well, actually.

i was able to not only avoid breakfast, but i also was not forced to eat a dessert my mom made. i evaded lunch through my plan. with dinner, i ate little and i purged it well. this day went much better than i predicted it would go, and for that i am glad. there is nothing much more notable today, other than i went to the bookstore, so this introductory paragraph will be brief.

i think something i must confront is my fear of death. it is natural and reasonable to have this fear. it is an inevitable cycle of life, yet it also is against our biological instincts to actively seek death. i am not in love with the concept of dying. although, i have wished for death many times, it is not like i find it particularly enticing. it is scary. how unknowable it is and how it could be harrowing. i do suppose that death is unavoidable. even if you don't die of old age, very easily you could die at any time. i could get into a car accident, i could develop cancer, i could even be brutally murdered. all of which i could not foresee or control. a lot of self-inflicted deaths can be agonizing and slow too. take for example, overdosing -- now, i have intentionally overdosed multiple times. often i hear people say that overdose (depending on the medication/drug) is a painful process. i think it certainly can be, but not necessarily. especially if it is bad enough, you'll usually fall into a coma. in that state, you will not be in pain, despite how much you would suffer to experience your organs failing, if you were conscious.

in my experience, my most lethal overdose i was unconscious the whole time. i did not experience the side-effects of overdosing. i was blissfully ignorant of the panicked doctors and my mom begging me to not pass away. it would have been easy to die there with no conflict in my mind, unaware that my death could be moments away. my worst experience of overdosing i was mostly unconscious, but occasionally, i resurfaced. i remember tossing-and-turning, grasping at my chest because i felt a sharp-pain in it that i couldn't shake off. i also was constantly throwing up. it did hurt. i couldn't even remember why it was that i was in pain -- no longer able to remember it was my fault. it's ironic that in my last post that i said i should have my restraint when i am describing my experiences, but oh-well. my lethal attempt was almost encouraging in an odd way, it made me think that death could be no different then falling asleep and never waking up, that it would be an easy process. i am not of a religious faith, so it would be quite acceptable for me to think this way. i worry that, at least for me, overdosing has a low chance of success, and i know that to be statistically true as well. therefore, i have to try something else, but i am well aware these methods could be more directly pain-inducing. i do not like the idea of being in excruciating pain -- again, that is scary and difficult to force yourself into, no matter how much you wish to die.

but it is something i will have to face, especially if my goal comes to fruition. i challenge myself to think about it more, rather than pushing it into the back of my head. i need to prepare myself, so it is less likely i'll chicken out of it. i need to be able to do it, and i need it to work. it may be some ways ahead -- but it could arrive sooner than i think. especially if instead of me succeeding, my plan falls through, which i don't like to think about; and yet, there is a fair chance of it happening.

i do apologize if this is all unsettling to read. i would ask of you to disengage with this blog, if it is triggering or upsetting, for your own sake. this is my only outlet, and that's not an excuse for my saying what i do here, but that is simply what it is.

regardless, to all who read this, i wish you a good day.

2/17/24

today's restriction while not adequate, i still accomplished my goal.

as i predicted, i was made to eat breakfast. i evaded lunch as i usually am able to, and i had to eat dinner. i successfully purged what i ate. it does not make me happy that i cannot restrict as much as i would want to, but at least i didn't binge, which is what i wanted to avoid. to be fair, if i could restrict as much as i liked, i probably would go for days without eating (lol), but in a routine way. i'd be more logical about how i approach fasting than i did last fall, because it ended up with a bad binge-restrict cycle, where i'd constantly be either binging or not eating for a week, and that proved to be unsustainable. i'd have to use trial and error to discover what would be most optimal for me to lose weight, if i had the freedom to do so. but i might never have that freedom. achieving that level of freedom would take a long time, and i would not wish to be alive for that time to arrive or not have accomplished my goal by then.

lately, i've felt frustrated by what appears to me, a lack of clear progress on the appearance of my body. i haven't checked my weight in months, and don't necessarily plan to soon. so, i have to rely on my eye to see visible changes. i have felt that my clothes have been looser on me, but i can't tell if i am making that up or not. and addition to that, i am unsure if i can see changes, or maybe i just can't remember how i looked before. i have become more bothered by my body, because it pains me to feel that i am not doing anything. what i have become most "insecure" (not sure how else to put it) about are my sides and thighs. my thighs are certainly too big, in my opinion, and it feels like the sides of my stomach just look... odd to me. i am not entirely sure whether this is accurate, but it seems like my hip bones aren't as prominent as they were in september -- which is about the last time i was checking my weight, and carefully assessing the changes in my body. it would make sense, though, because i think that i gained back a lot of the weight i lost, when i was hospitalized. it'll take a minute to get back to that weight, but hopefully not too long, i probably am already on my way there. i thought to myself that i do not feel skinny enough. but i do objectively know that i am to the average person. i suppose that doesn't matter, considering what i am looking for is not simply being just underweight, but being practically deathly skinny. regardless, all this is a waiting game, if i keep trying and don't give up, i'll eventually see the progress i desire.

i have been more hesitant to self-harm recently. i thought that i should have done today, because of my inability to restrict, but i didn't do it. the reason being that it is too much of an inconvenience and a mess, that i have to be meticulous about cleaning up. originally, i was going to write about the exact details to why, but i thought i should show some restraint with how i speak. i have this urge to write about certain experiences in excruciating detail. i think that it is because i am lonely. i know that there are memories and experiences that i will never be able to talk about, that could never be shared with others. a part of me wants to speak those realities into words, almost like to acknowledge that they exist. but it's not appropriate and it's unhelpful too. it isn't necessary for me to talk about everything so thoroughly -- which i sometimes do anyway in this posts -- because i am already being problematic with what i espouse here. it is not morally okay to glorify my eating disorder to an audience of people with eating disorders -- regardless, if i reject the pro@na label, i implicitly perform that anyway. i am aware that that my entire blog is objectively immoral in multiple ways. who gives a damn if it is an avenue of self-expression?--if what i am saying is inherently harmful/triggering. the reason why i went on this tangent is to say that i should pull back a little. maybe it's pointless to do so, because it's not like i am stopping myself entirely, but i felt that i should be more considerate and not so self-serving for once.

i don't have much more to add, but i would guess that i'll be made to eat breakfast. fingers-crossed that i won't have to, but i wouldn't count on it. to all who read this, i wish you a good day.

2/16/24

i have been struggling lately to hide my anger.

i need to get myself together and do better to conceal it. it's hard to maintain a certain facade when you are exhausted -- especially from being forced to lie all the time, and a general lack of will to live. my growing irritation has been clear enough that my dad snapped at me, and said, "what's with the attitude? are you okay?". it's always that there's something wrong with me, that i am not okay. no matter how many times you ask me that, i will never say anything -- not honestly, at least. it has been particularly hard to mask my annoyance with my parents; i am frustrated because they cling to me, and want the best for me, and care about me. i should be grateful to have this, and yet, it leaves me upset. i want the opposite of what they want. i have no intentions of getting better. for their own sake, they should distant themselves from me, because i will only ever disappoint them. i have to try harder to pretend i am not angry, because i can't have eyes drawn to me. but i also recognize that me doubling down on pretending leads me to become more bitter and tired; therefore, i end up expressing it without meaning to.

i dislike being controlled by others. my actions are dictated by the people around me. i am forced to attend therapy; i have to take my medications; i have to go through with interventional psychiatry; i have to eat; i have to be a model student; i have to reflect the potential that everyone can "see" within me. but none of these are what i want. i understand that my goals are objectively bad, and no one would encourage them. it doesn't make me feel less constricted; it doesn't make me feel less helpless. i despise that i cannot do as i wish, that i cannot wholly dedicate myself to my goals. that i have to play a role to appease everyone.

i know that the people around me are not malicious and are good/normal people -- and yet, it feels awful, it feels impeding, controlling, infuriating. it is hard to not become combative when i am asked things i find stupid, or that i cannot answer truthfully, so i must lie. i wish often that i could be left alone. it would make everything much easier for me. no one gets it. they don't understand that i will not change. i am not the person they think i am, or who they want me to be. i am not even trying. you can't help someone who doesn't try, or doesn't even want to learn to try. but i guess no one knows i feel this way. even so, if they did, it would make them dig their heels in more. people are so stubborn like that. people need to learn the lesson that not everyone can be saved, and it is better to prioritize yourself and not let your trust be taken advantage of.

on today's restriction, it could've been better. my friend came over again, and this time, we did eat a snack and i did not purge. i dread tomorrow since i am almost certain that i'll be made to eat breakfast. i have to harden my resolve that i will not fall into binging, regardless of how tempted i may be when it feels like everything has already gone to shit. this may sound contradictory, but i have to restrict even when i am unable to restrict. i have to pull it back and not let it spiral out of control. that's my main focus for tomorrow.

i have nothing else to say. so to all who read this, i wish you a good day.

2/15/24

today's restriction was alright.

i was unable to purge, because my friend came over but we didn't eat a snack, which was relieving. there is something that bothers me about this at the same time, but i don't think i have a right to voice it, because it is not my personal information to give. whatever i say that is relative to myself is fair game, but information related to a separate person is not fair game. it would supply a level of complexity, though, and it is something that i am wrestling with. the conflict i feel is about whether i should prioritize myself or them. but i do recognize i am choosing myself in the end -- so perhaps, it is wrong of me to act like i am unsure of which to choose, it's just that i feel guilt over my rather immoral, self-serving decision.

speaking of immorality, there has been something that has crossed my mind multiple times. sometimes i see someone who is unusually and extremely skinny, and it makes me wonder whether this is their natural body-type or if they have an eating disorder like me. obviously, since i don't interact with people and have zero intentions of getting close to someone, i'll never find out. this leads me to think which reality would i rather it be. my conclusion is that i would definitely prefer it to be a natural body-type. this is not simply because i would rather it be true that someone is not struggling with an eating disorder. but it's because if they did have an eating disorder, it would mean they are doing a much better job than me, and that makes me envious(?). that is a blatantly horrible way to think. like who would be envious of someone with a severe mental disorder? i mean, yes, it is probably clear that i am not a good person.

my thinking, though, is that what is important to me is self-control and discipline, rather than any belief that skinniness is attractive and that i want it for that reason. so it is of little meaning to me if someone is naturally very skinny. it's not like they had to work for it and i am not upset that they fit a specific beauty standard while i don't. and even that is shaky, because i wouldn't necessarily argue that the people i am referring to are the beauty standard, because there is a point that someone can be too underweight and begin to not be considered attractive. even if i do feel envy over someone's natural body-type, it comes from a place that body-type is what i associate with positive markers for my goal, and i wish i was there. regardless, what i am getting at is that it is more valuable to me to have the drive and dedication to take their goal to an extreme. when i see someone else who is able to do that -- it makes me feel inadequate and that i am not passionate enough, that i'm not trying hard enough. today i saw someone state they fasted for 25 days, while i have no way of verifying if what they said was a lie, it made me sad. and because i am a bad person, it was not because i felt sorrow that this person must be a terrible headspace, but because i have not accomplished that. i haven't been able to test myself to that extreme. i've never had the opportunity to, but i would be scared to discover that perhaps i don't have it in me.

i want to know that i can push myself. know that i'd do anything to accomplish my goal. know that i can have such strong control over myself, that i could override basic survival instincts. and if i could do that, i could do practically anything. this knowledge would satisfy me greatly, letting me be able to pass away with my heart at ease. that is what i essentially crave. i'd be able to achieve such good self-control in life, and then at the end of it all, i'd be able to commit that most ultimate form of self-control, which is to choose to die.

that's my ramblings for today. if i come off as deeply unwell, i apologize. if you have read this far, i wish you a good day.

2/14/24

today's theme is false assumptions... stupidity, denial?

it has intrigued me for some time that i have evaded suspicion as well as i have -- despite the people around me knowing that i am mentally ill, have a history of starving myself, and additionally, that i am not honest. there are three people that, in my opinion, should reasonably assume that i have an eating disorder, or that i am significantly struggling.

the first person is my mom -- i believe that she is thinking of things wrong. she is definitely the person who is most attentive to my eating habits; she often accusing me of not eating/not eating enough, asks me about my eating, or forces me to eat. for instance, she randomly asked me if i had eaten the chocolates she put in my lunch. for some idiotic reason, i panicked and said i didn't know. she hounded me for this, then forced me to eat one. this made me very angry, because i didn't want to do this, and it also made me paranoid that she's on to me. at the same, very recently, a psychiatrist blatantly asked my mom if i struggled with disordered eating/or had a history of an eating disorder, and she said, "no, that's not a problem". my theory is that my mom considers my lack of eating as a sign of depression, rather than hinting toward an eating disorder. i don't "act" like someone with an eating disorder, or at least, in the popularized notion of how ana is stereotyped. i have probably never mentioned the desire to lose weight aloud my entire life, or have ever shown interest in diet-culture, or have made negative comments about my body. therefore, i don't think she would think that i have an eating disorder because my behavior doesn't align with an archetypical representation of one.

now, there is my therapist. just today they said, "your control issues are very similar to the mentality of someone with an eating disorder". this is almost hilarious to me. they certainly know that i have a pattern with restrictive eating, because i stupidly admitted to it when i was in a vulnerable state after being hospitalized. when we resumed sessions, they asked me if i was still restricting, or had ever purged, and i denied it. they have never brought it up since then. this is utterly baffling to me -- they are definitely aware that i am capable of dishonesty. they specifically requested of me to not lie about long-term plans to harm myself -- because i've done that before -- and if i were to do this again, they would have to stop working with me. what would suggest that i would start being honest now? especially since i can clearly get away with it. there is a chance that they do think i have an eating disorder. they just want me to admit it. which is a stupid move, because why would i admit that? -- and, it would be doing a shit job as a therapist, since you'd be practically allowing me to hurt myself. i do think well of my therapist, despite the grievances i raise here, so i'd rather wish that this is not the case, even though, it would be good for me technically. i say this because i would objectively wish for them to have integrity as a therapist. i am still confused, though, because to me, they haven't been asking the right questions that i would perceive to be obvious to ask, which makes me somewhat critical of their abilities. i am unsure in general of my therapist's line of thought there, or what they are thinking about currently. side tangent, though, i asked them if they had any moral judgments about me. i predicted they would say they don't have any, and attribute my behaviors to my mental illness/trauma, and they said precisely that. i am of the opinion that mental illness does not excuse bad behavior, and they also specifically said i don't intentionally hurt people, which i think is inaccurate. so i don't really agree with their assessment.

i feel guilty for the last person, since i don't want to seem like i am criticizing them. they essentially know that i have an eating disorder; they've said it themselves at one point. i regret that i've shared my history with them at certain moments of my life. i did so because i was not as concrete in my goals then, and then, because i was in a apathetic place. even though, they do have this knowledge -- while definitely not the whole story or specifics -- they never ask me about it or confront me over it. this is quite convenient for me. someone who technically knows but does nothing about it? that sounds good. i think it is. however, it does puzzle me. this is my best friend, someone who i am incredibly close with it. it is probably odd they never ask me about it, or seem to worry that i might be doing it again. there are three possibilities to me. they are in some level of denial, they don't want to believe i am still doing it, prefer to think that i am not, and if they hold onto that, it is comforting and easy. the second one is that they trust me -- that stings because as i've said before, i've never been someone worthy of trust -- and i would just tell them if i was struggling. the last one is that they do believe something is going on, but is fearful of how it may damage our friendship if they confront me over it. i think the first one would be the easiest for me to swallow, because it is not as personal. but i would bet it may be some of these possibilities combined.

it is probably weird that i went to some lengths to explain this. it would be reasonable to wonder what is the point of telling strangers online all of this. this place serves mostly as a diary, a confessional, or somewhere to place my daily thoughts. simply because it has been something on my mind, i decided to write about it; even though, there is no point in telling anyone this. it could even be incriminating, if someone i knew were to hypothetically find this. but i do seriously doubt that would happen.

regardless, today's restriction was okay. i still am upset about having to eat that piece of chocolate. sure, it's not going to make me gain, but it is principle (which you all know is something i am overly fixated on it). it is also frustrating to be forced into eating. i found today that i ate multiple different food, but really small portions. usually, i eat one thing and maybe a small second thing. so, when i record this into my food log, it looks that i ate a lot more since there is more food listed. but in reality, i didn't eat more than typical.

that's all i have to say. happy valentine's day! i wish anyone who reads this, that you have a good day.

2/13/24

today was a fairly usual day.

the only thing that felt awry to me was that the purging didn't go as smoothly as i had wished. for some reason, i kept hitting my uvula and it would prevent me from sticking back my toothbrush -- this also happened yesterday, so that area hurt already. i am not sure why this was happening, since this isn't usually an issue. it doesn't matter too much, i suppose. i don't anticipate it being a great problem in the future.

i thought to myself that i need to try harder, and that i cannot let myself fall into eating so easily. i need to put up more of a resistance when i am being forced to eat. i worried that it would look suspicious of me to do this, but i find that the consequences of me doing this succeed that initial worry. if i am being forced into eating more than i wished, it makes me suspectable to binging, because i think, "oh, it's already over for me, i should just give up". i need to work on this thinking and not letting it sway me. when i put words down like this, i get a paranoid it will become ironic. what i mean by that is that i fear it is a sign i'll binge soon, and i'll have to eat (lol) my words. i sure hope not.

my mind has been gravitating toward thinking of death recently. i suppose it makes sense that i would think about it eventually, since it is my end goal. i do wonder about my capacity to go through with it, especially with the method i am considering, as it is much bolder, and potentially, more directly fatal. that might sound confusing, because who cares if it is more "directly fatal", that's the whole point. i think it is easier to convince yourself to swallow pills, then say stabbing yourself. you have to override your instincts to live much more, because the threat is clearly imminent (also factoring in the awareness of immediate pain). even then, if i do follow through with it, i worry about the possibility of failing. if i reach the point where this is my next move, i truly do not want to fail -- it would be humiliating, for one, and then, i would be scrutinized to no end, likely to a larger extent than the past.

furthermore, i think it would wreck me; to know that i failed, that i am entirely out of options, that i would most certainly be forced into recovery, thereby ruining everything i worked for. i don't think i could handle that. but, it is better to get a chance at succeeding, then to simply let forced recovery happen. i highly doubt i can get away with this forever, or maybe even that long. once i start getting toward endgame, it will be pretty obvious what my condition is. it is possible that things will go out of hand, and at the same time, i might not be close to my goal, leading to my premature death. when i say "premature", i mean that it would not be what i wanted, or rather, i would not have died in my preferred manner. having my hands tied is not desirable. if anything, i am trying to pass away with a level of ease, that i accomplished something of note -- regardless, if anyone would see it that way but me -- and if something/someone, gets in the way of that, it would be disappointing. it would all be useless in the end. but i suppose if it all will be useless, then i would prefer to not be alive in said uselessness. i do not want this to happen; i do not want to end my life in tragedy alone.

maybe i should consider more the reason why i even want this -- why do i bother to make something out of my clearly pathetic existence? i have had a few thoughts pop-up, that all this is farcical and i am kidding myself, that my brain is just trying to desperately find a way to preserve itself and not die. i don't like to think this is it, but it's a fair possibility. what i prefer to think is that i am upholding some kind of principles, principles i can use to define myself, and create meaning from the nothingness i inhabit. but perhaps, even that, breaks down really quickly. i do not consistently follow my principles. i don't think i understand myself at all. i can't differentiate my actual beliefs from the lies i tell myself. i couldn't tell you if it is all lies, or the opposite, if it is all having legitimate beliefs. i would hazard a guess that it has to be some melting pot of lies and beliefs. i don't think i'll ever find a solid answer to why i do anything. i suppose it may not matter, if it all invariably leads to death in the end.

these were my thoughts today. to anyone who reads this, i wish you a good day. i'm sorry if anything i said was confusing or off-putting.

2/12/24

i binged over the weekend.

i resumed restriction today. it's odd. when i let go and binge, it does not bring me happiness -- not even momentarily, rather it feels like extreme desperation, an unraveling of sorts. i became overwhelmed with this sense of emptiness, and it was painful in a way that was unbearable. i held this belief that i am pursuing suffering; but this made me realize, i do not want to suffer, not like this at least. what i truly want is suffering that i can control, that i can inflict upon myself. i don't want to be subjected to a helpless suffering, one that is boundless and out of my control. when i hurt myself, it is familiar, even comforting, it doesn't actually hurt me -- even though, it technically does. when i self-harm, when i starve, when i isolate, it's what comes naturally to me, like it is who i am. i am self-destructive. that's my nature.

i think when things become out of control, the uncertainty frightens me. i don't want to face life and the consequences of being human, so i never try to better myself. i never have to confront what is unknown, and i never have to put myself on the line to be disappointed. letting myself eat means that i don't have to technically have to follow my goal -- it means i could change, and so many options open up. but i don't want that. when i chase after getting worse, it means that everything becomes simple. i have only one path to follow. i don't have to try. i only have to go along with it. i am a weak, single-minded person. life is too hard; therefore, i don't try to live it.

i only foresee a specific future for myself, and i am resigned to it. i have to keep to this path of mine. i don't want to stray from it. i don't want to find a new one. this is all i can do.

i am upset. i wish i could act how i wish. i want to be in control.

i will note that this is my 100th post. but, that is all i have left to say for the day.

2/9/24

i am so relieved.

i was fucking terrified that i had lost the ability to purge. i was almost too afraid to attempt it again, but i forced myself to try. fortunately, it worked. i have zero explanation as to why i couldn't purge for a few days. nevertheless, i am glad taking a quick break fixed it. i restricted fairly well, and the purging was successful; therefore, it is a positive day in that regard.

i had therapy today. something my therapist said legitimately surprised me. they asked me to talk about various principles i've had over the years. one of them was that i should be obedient toward the person i most admire -- doing this to avoid having them abandon me, and also so i could use this person to define myself and provide purpose. i do not necessarily follow this principle as much as i used to. but my therapist pointed out that i have not particularly change, just that the object of my focus shifted to a concept. i am devoted to "death" rather than a person. i speak rather vaguely to my therapist, so i often substitute certain words, or experiences, with other things. like, obviously, i have never once mentioned my goal or my eating disorder. i moreover tend to say that what i solely care about is suicide, that generally i want to be worse.

for some reason, my therapist hasn't noticed how odd it is that despite being preoccupied with death, that i don't just... do it. the reason i don't pursue suicide is precisely because i have my goal, and i have little desire to die until i accomplish said goal. but my therapist doesn't know that. i don't really understand why they haven't thought about it. that's not the point, though. i think they are right. i'm filling a new void that i've always had with the pursuit of suffering, forging purpose from that, instead of other people. curiously, my therapist said that my fixation with "death" is that a concept can never disappoint me, i can never hurt it, and i can take comfort in that. they then go on to say that because of this, a concept can never provide me anything, not like the affection i could receive from a person; therefore, it is not useful for me to obsess over this and i'm not getting what i want out of it.

this confounds me. i actually found this statement to be amazing -- this has never crossed my mind. in fact, it is encouraging to me. i've truly found the correct avenue for my purpose. i have never asked for anything in return. all i have ever wished to do is to give. i am puzzled that my therapist thought this would makes me realize that my principle was wrong; in my opinion, it completely validates it. my pursuit of suffering really is the best route i can take. i do not have to rely on anyone for purpose; i can cast that to the wayside. i can make something entirely on my own. my single-minded passion will reap the most benefit i can make out of my life. i am glad.

so, i believe today went well. to all who reads this, i wish you a good day.

2/8/24

today was uneventful.

positively, even though my friend came over, we did not eat a snack, so i didn't have to worry about that. i still had to eat dinner and it wasn't possible to purge. even so, it is more successful than i thought it would be. i don't believe i have much to say today, i didn't have many thoughts. i'd like to stay on the right track as much as possible, and i hope these words don't soon become ironic. in regards to tomorrow, i would like to eat little, but there is, again, a possibility i will be forced to eat more. i am aware that i have to go out to eat on saturday -- i'd like to skip breakfast and do my usual routine of evading lunch. skipping breakfast may be too ambitious to ask for.

regardless, this all i have to say for today. i wish anyone who reads this a good day.