So I was drinking with Megan and Amanda last night. We were posting about the food Amanda was making and Megan’s ex commented this morning on how we’re fatasses. Well, I actually started to sober up and drove home so I could puke last night. I had waited too long. And now I don’t regret it one bit. The other day Tasha was over and Amanda and I were like, “You’re so thin.” She lifted her shirt and smiled and was saying, “Because I don’t eat.” I spent the night bingeing and purging. People’s comments are throwing me into a nasty cycle. I can’t deal with anything anymore. I just don’t want to eat. I’m just going to fast. I feel like I’d destroyed every once of recovery. Any healing my body did, gone.

I might as well start going for my late night binges, too.

So fucking sick of living here. So sick of nobody wanting to hire me. So sick of my anxiety issues.

Here are some other things I am sick of.

The eating disorder, the recovery, my car slowly dying, being fat, being alone, being single, friendless, fat, fat, ugly, everything.

I don’t think I want to see The Lucky One. Movie’s are never as good as the book. For one all I’ve seen is shit that didn’t even happen and that angers me. If you are going to make a movie based on a book, at least use things that actually happened. Yeah, I get that you can’t make an 8 hour movie, but come on.